


The Boy Who Wanted To Be A Real Puppet

by Squaliano



Series: Blood Brothers [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:26:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 39,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22840027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squaliano/pseuds/Squaliano
Summary: Among the many that torment him, a voice calls to Yazoo, waking him from a nightmare that has lasted for what seems like his entire life.  But what of that life?  What was it before the nightmare?  Who is he?  A meeting that is too perfect to be a coincidence is the beginning of a journey to discover himself, love, and the truth in his blood.
Relationships: Elena/Tseng (Compilation of FFVII), Genesis Rhapsodos/Sephiroth, Reno/Yazoo (Compilation of FFVII), Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife
Series: Blood Brothers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1642006
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18





	1. A Voice In the Darkness

_So this little doll wants to be a puppet for real..._

Over a chorus of weeping and moaning, the visions came -- the same few scenes bringing sorrow and regret over and over. This must be hell. The wounds he had endured in what little life he could remember were reopened in a perpetual cycle. He relived those moments in tears, reaching out for hands he could never touch and calling out names he could no longer remember.

He cried for someone to save him. For so long, no one came.

He was alone, yet the voices were many and somehow one. In the rare times that he could focus on his own voice, he asked the same questions, despairing that the answers had become lost with the time spent in his private hell. Who was he reaching for? Who was he crying for?

Isn’t someone missing me...?

There was someone. In his dreams, he could feel the warmth of their body next to his -- his hand holding gently to theirs. Inevitably, they would be ripped away, and the cycle would begin anew. 

Separation.  
Loss.  
Tears.  
Loneliness.

Sometimes, the voices urged him to let go -- promising that if it was all too much, he could leave this behind and truly start again. Each time the offer came, he considered it. Yet, he held onto himself and his will for one reason.

Someone is missing me…

Long ago, he had known names and faces, but those names had been forgotten and the faces were all blurs. His was the only name he knew, but even that was slipping away. The voices around him had long forgotten who they were crying for. If he were ever to let go of the thought that there was someone waiting for him, he would become like them. For now, his dreams were all he had.

Wake up…

One voice, one whisper was powerful enough to rise above it all. His dreams gave way to darkness, and in the midst of it, he saw the white light surrounding his savior. He reached out, but could not touch the person he was reaching for. Something was in the way, but not for long. He pushed with his hand and with his mind, and then he felt himself falling. 

As he now lie on a cold, wet surface, his chest began to burn. 

Breathe.

He did. 

His nostrils took in the scents of copper and wet hair first, followed by concrete and another scent that was familiar, but one he could not name at the moment. The voices, though not as loud as before, were still present and clouding his brain. A particularly loud one declared that lockdown was initiated. He didn’t understand, but there was no need. At that moment, it felt as though he had given control to someone else while he watched through a window in his mind. His body swayed to its feet and began to walk. Distantly, he could sense the cold of the ground and the wetness of the large puddle he splashed through. Something approached him and ordered him to stop. He lifted his hand, and then that something began to burn. 

But his brain hadn’t given his body the order to do that… had it? Should he not remember the thought? His head was swimming, and it felt as though he was starting to float outside of his body, and yet it also felt as though he was still somewhat in there. A loud report sounded and then there was a signal from his body that his abdomen was in pain, but the pain itself, he could just barely feel. The copper smell grew stronger.

Am I still dreaming?

He had become a passenger in his own body, which seemed to know what to do about every situation, while his brain did not. Things burned and sparked around him. Screams of pain and terror echoed, and it all felt too real to be a dream, but too distant to be reality. 

The ground began to move. 

He fell to his knees and then forward onto his hands. His clarity began to return, and he understood that he was going up. On the floor near his hand was a plastic card with a picture of a man with dark hair and glasses on it. His eyes would not focus enough to let him read the name, which was well enough. His stomach rose faster than the elevator, and he proceeded to spew a puddle on the cold metal floor in front of him. 

How long would he be going up? His body was naked except for a thin white gown that laced in the back. This garment, like the long hair that clung to his face, was soaking wet. He was cold -- so very cold -- and sleepy. His midsection was burning with a growing intensity. Scooting against the wall, he curled up into a ball and closed his eyes, hoping that whatever was happening to him would be over soon. He just wanted to sleep.

He had begun to slip away when the elevator came to a stop with a heavy sounding clank. The doors slid open with a whoosh, and the scent of saltwater came to him on the heavy wind. Grasping a railing, he pulled his trembling body to its tingling feet. Then he slowly made his way out of the elevator and onto cool white sand. 

Dizzy…

It was the first word to come to mind as he wobbled towards a rock wall and barely caught himself. Up ahead, he could see sunlight, but his vision was beginning to blur. That copper smell was also beginning to be a bit much. Instinct told him that he had to keep moving, and so he did, though his breaths were becoming labored. The rock wall provided enough support to keep his body upright, but when he reached the end of it, he fell sideways onto the hot sand. The sunlight was its own hell, practically blinding him when he managed to roll onto his back. Somehow, he made it to his knees, and then he threw up again. Wanting to get his now disgusting hair away from his nose, he lifted a hand as far as his face and was met with the full force of the copper smell. His eyes focused, and he realized the hand was stained crimson. Then his head, which began to feel entirely too heavy for his neck, wobbled to the side, threatening to take him down.

Dying…

And he thought it would not be much of a loss if his story did end here. The only thing that made him get to his feet was the question that had often repeated itself when he tried to make sense of the hell that he had been puppeted into leaving behind. 

Isn’t someone missing me?

Lucidity was failing him, but he swayed to his feet and fought for each step. Someone was waiting for him. His broken mind had forgotten who they were, but his heart urged him to keep going for their sake. The world was growing black around him, but he was not afraid. He took another step and then he was falling, falling, falling. Was this a new torture then? Would he come this far, only to fall again and again? His body crashed into a rough surface and then sank slowly. Water filled his unprepared lungs as his limbs instinctively flailed. He broke to the surface again, but the waves were too strong and he was too weakened by his ordeal. He was pulled under again and again, the struggle to reach the surface becoming more and more impossible for him until finally, he gave in to darkness.

\------------

“Sephiroth…?”

That name… he had heard it before, though it had become lost for a time. A voice he had not heard before echoed above him, and he opened his eyes to a blurry face that he did not recognize. Deep blue eyes stared down at him while pouty pink lips continued to form the vowels and consonants that made up that name. He was pulled into a sitting position and shaken lightly. Oddly, this helped his vision to clear a bit, but it did very little for the confusion that he was experiencing. 

“Sephiroth? You’re… not…”

No, he was definitely not Sephiroth. He was also not surprised that this person was disappointed. The lips trembled and the blue eyes rapidly grew watery, but before the tears could spill, he was being shaken again. This undid whatever the shaking had done for him before, as his head started to swim and blackness began to creep up on the edges of his vision. Before he could even think of drifting away, however, the shaking grew more violent. His head snapped backwards and then forward again. Then he was held at arm’s length so that he could look into the now furious face of his accoster. 

“Who are you?! Why do you look so much like him?!”

Those were really good questions, most especially the first one. He had come out of that dark, cold place with knowledge of his name, but somewhere between there and here, he had lost it -- or rather he had lost the ability to say it. His mouth opened, but vomit instead of words came out. His ‘host’ was upset enough by this to drop him on the beach while shrieking. Closing his eyes, he listened to the sounds of furious splashing and then noted that he could also hear gentle waves and calling gulls. Maybe he was not dreaming after all. The beach had never made an appearance in past visions. He contemplated this as much as he could while drifting off. However, he was pulled into sitting again before he could get too far. 

“You?! What is wrong with you? Who are you if you’re not Sephiroth?!”

His eyes felt like the lashes had been glued together. Still, he managed to open them in order to look at this person again. Whoever this hysterical man was, he wasn’t bad looking at all. Much of his dreams, or nightmares, honestly, were plagued by the face of a man who was not nearly as pretty. This beach man had such a dainty nose. Drifting off, he had a thought of flicking it.

“Come on,” his inquisitor growled. “Stay with me! Who…” Something cut him off -- thank goodness. He was held away from the other’s body for a few moments and then his face was lightly tapped. “Hey, you! I need you to stay with me, ok? Tell me your name. Can you tell me your name?”

He was so tired, but this person insisted. His eyes barely made it open, and he found that he could not lift his head higher than enough to gaze at his apparent rescuer’s neck. And the question… his name? He opened his mouth, but the single word would not come out. In fact, no words would. He struggled to a point that it felt like his vocal cords were flexing, but he just could not do it. He could not talk. 

“What’s your name?” the blue eyed man repeated.

How he wished that he could answer! Fear found its way into his heart and made room for panic. His body trembled and it felt as though he couldn’t breathe. His head felt as though it was full of water and he started to pitch forward. Finally, he spoke two words.

“Please...help…”

“You’re going to be okay,” he felt himself being lifted into his rescuer’s arms as this promise was made. “I don’t know who you are, but… I’ll take care of you.”

_____________________________

It was high tide when the Shinra copter touched ground on an unnamed island in the Mideel area. Despite there being no civilization to speak of on this isle, it was the source of a distress signal that had somehow found its way to new HQ. The waves were hitting the shore hard, sending up sprays that were about as tall as Reno, unruly spikes of red hair included. As usual, what wasn’t spiked was pulled back into a loose ponytail that hung down his back. While Rude, to his right, was as sharp as always, wearing the black suit that served as the Turks uniform with the zipper properly zipped to just over halfway up his tie, Reno was even slouchier than usual. His excuse was that today was supposed to be an off day, and in planning for it, he hadn’t bothered to go by the cleaners to have everything cleaned and pressed. His suit was clean in appearance and smell, at the very least, but his unzipped zipper revealed that his collared white shirt could use an ironing. This is what they got when they called him out of the blue. He had grabbed the first clean looking shirt he could find on the floor. 

The duo made their way across the white sand, Rude pulling on one of his leather gloves, and Reno tapping his electromag rod against his shoulder, as was a habit when he knew he was about to walk into something potentially dangerous. As they neared the rocky edge of a cliff, the ocean sprayed them enough that Rude had to remove his sunglasses to dry them. Snorting, the red head remarked to his partner, “At least we got the fun location. Wish someone told me to put on some sunblock, though. I’m feelin’ like a turkey already.”

Rude made a “hm” noise as he replaced his sunglasses and led the way towards a shady grotto. If he hadn’t known better, his partner would mistake it for the cocoa brown skinned man actually caring and trying to get him some relief. They had been working together for far too long for Reno to think this. In reality, this grotto was where they needed to go. Footprints in the sand leading away from the far rock wall confirmed this. 

“Looks like whatever got out is human,” Reno remarked, kneeling in front of the prints. Frowning, he noted several splatters of red in the sand and took a picture with a slim camera that was tucked back into his inner breast pocket when he was done. “Wonder if they survived though.”

“We’ll find out,” Rude replied as he waved a keycard at the wall. To an outsider, he might look crazy, but the Turks were, of course, privy to Shinra stealth technology at its finest. Within seconds of the bald Turk’s actions, a series of loud clanks were followed by a hiss and electronic powering sounds as part of the rock wall slid away to reveal an elevator car. Standing, Reno followed Rude to board it. As they headed towards the back, Rude grimaced and looked at the bottom of his shoe. There were blood splatters along the floor, and in the middle of a pair of bloody handprints was a coagulating puddle of putrid mess housing a security badge that neither of them were going to touch. 

“Damn,” Reno shuddered as the car began what he knew would be a long descent. That was how it always was with these places. Getting down to them was a literal trip. Sighing again, he shook his head. “This is gonna be Deepground all over again, isn’t it? We finally get the company in a real good place, and now this.”

“If we do our job, it won’t come to that,” Rude replied in his usual dry tone. 

Rolling his eyes, the redhead glanced over at his too cool partner, cocking his head a bit, “It ALWAYS comes to that, you know. We didn’t even have a chance with Deepground.”

“Well,” Rude shrugged as he once again tugged on the hem of his glove to make sure that it was secure on his hand. “We’re on top of this. That we were even able to get the distress signal is a good sign.”

“You’ve got a point,” Reno smiled and resumed tapping his weapon against his shoulder. “Anyway, at least this doesn’t seem like it involves an entire army of secret super soldiers, so there’s that.”

“There you go,” Rude agreed.

It was about a twenty minute elevator ride before the car finally came to a stop with a loud clang. When the doors slid open to let them out, they were immediately met with carnage. The sprinkler system had put out much of the fire that had apparently happened here, but the floors were still mostly damp, with several small puddles resting in places where the concrete took a dip. The lights were thankfully somewhat functional, though most of them were sparking or flickering, likely from water damage or being hit with stray bullets. There were casings on the floor of the hall they found themselves in. What they also found in this hall were charred, smoldering bodies. Thankfully, the majority of them were robotic, as the smell of burned human flesh was something that Reno had yet to get used to in all his years of service. 

The duo knew they had found the right room when they came upon a military grade blast door lying on the floor just outside of it. There were several bodies here, some of which sadly belonged to human scientists, if what was left of their white coats were to be believed. Reno stood over a man with dark hair and glasses that had been shattered on his face. This man was in a seated position with his legs splayed out before him. His head was drooping to his left side, allowing the trauma wound in back to be seen. The blood spot on the wall behind and above him seemed to match. 

“After all these years….” Reno spoke quietly as he stood to turn away from this victim. “How were they even getting paid? Their boss wasn’t even around…”

“I hear he had that effect on his subordinates,” Rude replied still walking forward. 

Reno followed, and on the way, their steps became wetter and wetter, until they found themselves in the middle of a glass filled puddle. This made sense, as the large containment unit in front of them was missing the front.

“So… what we’re lookin’ for’s definitely gone,” Reno remarked of the smashed glass. “Question is, how big and bad was it?”

Turning back, Rude headed for the terminals that ran along the center of the room. Most of them were fried due to the sprinkler system, but he found one that was flickering. Inserting a thumb drive, he began to attempt to retrieve the data from it. 

“Can you grab the security footage as well or is that just gone?” Reno asked.

“I should be able to,” Rude replied, typing to enter his clearance. 

While his partner worked, Reno wandered around a bit under the pretense of investigating. Compared to the labs that made up the science department in the old Shinra building, this place was rather small. In fact, aside from the room that the escapee had been contained in, there was only a small lounge, a kitchen area, and a dormitory with six beds. This team had been kept small, most likely under the assumption that what they were containing would never get out. That was quite the oversight, as their escapee had murdered them all and demolished the robo security team. 

On his way back, he was met by Rude, who directed him towards the working terminal saying, “You need to see this.”

Reno could only guess that it was going to be something horrible, considering all that he had seen here, but he truly did not know what to expect. It crossed his mind that it could be Hojo himself. After all, the mad scientist had apparently gone to great lengths to live beyond death the first time, and Gaia knows that son of his just would not stay dead either. So when Reno looked at the monitor and saw a tall figure, clad only in a white hospital gown, with a head of long silver hair obscuring its face, he was not entirely surprised. Still, his eyes narrowed as he watched this figure raising its hand to send two scientists flying into the wall. After a breath, Reno said it aloud. 

“You’ve gotta be friggin’ kiddin’ me…”


	2. Chapter 2

Waking up, in itself, was something that he was going to have to get used to, as his life before now had been a near constant stream of dreams, with one often beginning when another ended. Rising in a bed this comfortable was entirely foreign, but not at all unwelcome. The sheets were cool and crisp, and the fluffy pillows smelled of fruit and lavender. A gentle draft floated down on him from above, coming from a fan with a motor that was as quiet as a whisper. It distributed the scent of sea air and another scent that he would describe in a word as clean.

Yawning quietly, he gently drew his legs up to savor the feeling of the sheets against his bare skin. He then attempted to sit up, finding that his abdominal muscles were sore. It took a bit of effort to pull his body into the desired position, and once he was upright, he realized that the hospital gown had been replaced by a soft grey shirt with sleeves that were a bit too long and a matching pair of cotton shorts. Frowning slightly, he lifted the hem of the shirt, exposing the pale muscles of his midsection. Near the lower left area of the rippling terrain, he spotted a bandage held in place by medical tape. Instinctually, he employed nails in dire need of a trimming and shaping to pick at the tape. The sound of footsteps made him pause and look up, though he couldn’t see much through the silver veil that was his hair. 

“You’re awake,” the voice that spoke to him was soft with just a hint of bass. The footsteps grew closer and then he felt the end of the bed take a slight dip as someone’s weight settled on it. The smell from the pillows drifted from this person, along with another scent that again only needed a word -- fish. It was thankfully faint; a normal human’s nose wouldn’t have registered the smell at all, but the silver haired young man who had awakened in a strange, yet wonderful bed was anything but a normal human -- he knew it about as well as he knew his name. Now if only he knew what was happening to him. 

“I hope you don’t mind that I gave you a bath,” his host continued to speak after a short pause. “Saltwater isn’t good for the hair, my friend. More importantly, you had wounds in need of cleaning and dressing. You’re healing rapidly, thank the goddess. I feared on the first night that I might lose you.”

The first night -- this implied that there had been multiple nights since his rescue from the shore. His body trembled a little as he looked down at his hands, which were resting on his sheet covered lap. The sheets in question were a nice shade of crimson -- a bit bold for his own tastes, but he didn’t know what color he would choose if choices like this were ever given to him. What bedding he could remember being given was either stark white or drab grey. 

“Are you feeling any better?” the soft voice asked him. The bed shifted a bit, and the other spoke again while leaning towards him. “Here, let me.”

Instinct caused him to flinch, but his rescuer did not seem to notice. The long silver strands of his hair were gently raked away from his face, and then he felt something cold slide against his scalp, followed by a gentle snap. Reaching up, his fingers traced the shape of a cartoon bear. It was a hairclip. Thanks to his kind host, he could now see his surroundings.

There was indeed a ceiling fan above the bed. Watching the clean white blades go at a slow pace was a bit hypnotizing, but he eventually managed to draw his curious eyes away. The ceiling and the walls were all made of the same tannish wood, while the floor was a slightly darker wood and covered with a furry white rug in the area surrounding the bed. There were a lot of windows through which bright sunlight tried to enter. However, the strawberry colored curtains held the rays at bay while swaying on the breezes that came in through the slightly opened windows. From where he sat, he got the idea that this cabin was all one room. The area that they were in was sectioned off by folding screens, one of which was opened enough so that he could see the front door. The screens were a shimmering dark red with fish of sparkling gold embroidered into them. This man’s favorite color was a little obvious.

His eyes traveled to the edge of the bed after this short look around, and they took in his rescuer. The man had fiery red hair that seemed to form perfect, soft looking feathers that stopped just a bit past his collar. A lock was swept over his forehead, drawing attention to his eyes, which were that captivating shade of blue that the sickly silver haired young man remembered. Then there was that dainty nose and the pouting lips. All of this was set above a chin that could be described as perfect -- not too pointy or square, but not too round. In fact, the man’s entire face looked like it had been sculpted with love. Deciding he had better not look at it too much, the ailing visitor turned his attention to the man’s attire. His host was wearing a maroon button up shirt with the sleeves pulled up and rolled around his elbows, an unbuttoned vest in a soft grey, and black pants. A single earring dangled from his ear, and a glimpse of a silver chain could be spotted around his neck. 

The redhead smiled gently while his guest took in the sight of him. Their eyes met for a few moments, and then the other looked away with a sigh. 

“Your eyes… I’m sorry, my friend. Your eyes take me back…”

Enough sorrow laced this person’s tone that it made the listener curious about the relationship between the redhead and Sephiroth. It had apparently been more than a day that he had slept in this bed. Yet, he knew absolutely nothing about this person except… a name? As if to answer his question, he heard the name whispered in his mind, and he repeated it softly.

“G-Genesis…?”

“You know my name?” the man who was obviously Genesis turned back to his guest with a surprised look on his face. The redheaded man then chuckled and looked down, touching his forehead to his finger tips. “Of course you do. I was famous, for a time. Likely, you know of my infamy. I dare not imagine that Shinra prints anything nice about me, if anything is printed at all.” Moving his fingers to his chin, he hummed slightly and continued, “I wonder which is better or worse -- to be forever remembered for misdeeds or to be completely forgotten. My hometown was near here, you know, but no one remembers my face or my name. Tragic, isn’t it?”

The silver haired guest could only blink, not knowing what to say even if he could say anything. Genesis seemed to understand this; he smiled and then stared at the other for a moment before shaking his head. “It’s perplexing. I know that you aren’t him. You couldn’t possibly be…”

At least this was something he could explain, if only the words would leave his mouth. Trying to speak was a physical effort that felt close to vomiting. He knew that he COULD speak, of course, because every now and then, one or two words escaped. Why was that all he could manage? Why did he have to struggle for five minutes before he finally managed to say the word “brother”?

Well manicured brows knit together for a few moments, and then there was a head shake. “No… no, Sephiroth didn’t have any siblings. He didn’t have any siblings that we know of…”

A sarcastic reply was ready in his mind, but that one word had been like climbing a mountain. It was becoming difficult to keep his eyelids up, and his head was wobbling to the side. This tiredness was frighteningly sudden, but it was all he could do to allow himself to be gently lain among the fluffy, Genesis scented pillows. He had so many questions: How do you know Sephiroth? Why did you decide to help me? Why do you smell slightly of fish?

“You should rest now, little Sephiroth brother,” the redhead spoke softly to him as his fingers gently smoothed the remaining hair away from his face. “I wish I knew what to call you.”

The little Sephiroth brother in question gently rubbed at his eyes as if his fingers could remove the weariness that pulled at them. His head felt like it was swimming, and he heard his voice with an echo as he managed to speak one last time. 

“Yazoo…”

“Your name is Yazoo? Like the river?”

Nodding slowly, he began to drift off with a feeling of slight contentment. It was a small thing, but it felt like a giant victory, being able to tell Genesis his name. As he finally gave in to sleep, one of his own thoughts managed to rise above the voices in his head, the tone triumphant.

My name is Yazoo…

\------------------------------------------------

Reno had come to like the new headquarters at Healin a lot better than he did the old HQ in Midgar. Being born and raised as a slum kid had given him a feeling of accomplishment and pride to live and work above the plate, of course. To rent his studio apartment in upper Sector 5 cost what some people made in a year, but it had been given to him for free, along with the black leather living room furniture that he had flopped all over his first night in his new home. He had taken so much pride in that apartment, and by extension, his fondness for the Shinra building was great. He had felt at home in a way that the slums could never be. After his assignments, he returned to rest his head in a place where he was safe. He slept without need for keeping one eye open, and when he left his home, it was not with anxiety that he would return to find all of his things gone. He had grown from a teenage punk to a man in the service of Shinra. He had seen employees come and go. Entire floors of Shinra HQ had changed over the years, but he had quickly familiarized himself with each change because it had been home. 

As much as he had loved that home, he had to admit that being a slum child had caused him to look at the city above the plate with rose colored lenses. Most of the people up there were filthy levels of rich, but they had their own problems. Hell, an entire sector of them had died when he had destroyed the pillar that held up the plate above Sector 7. His own hand had sent it all toppling down, and after that day, he could not look at Midgar quite the same.

Healin was now home to the new HQ, and everything about it felt as a chance to start over and atone for the past should be. Midgar had been sucking the life out of the planet on a day to day basis, leaving everything around it dead or dying. But here at Healin, he saw life all around him, from the mountains that stood tall and proud, to the rivers that fell in waterfalls that made the air smell clean and pure. It was those falls that powered the entire facility. Hydroelectricity was beautiful, he had decided, because it was working WITH the planet instead of bleeding her dry. 

As he and Rude walked along the walkway to Shinra Cabin, cool freshwater breezes wafted around like a blessing that came with the understanding that his right to exist was not an excuse to trample on that same right of others. Healin was about coexisting, and well, healing. Even after Geostigma had passed, many still came here for the latter. Reno felt he had something in common with the travelers. This was a place of healing for him as well. 

Regaining the trust of the people had been a long and at times perilous journey for the Shinra remnants, but with their promise to heal the world came the return of some old faces, as well as a steady trickle of new ones. As their company began to grow again, President Rufus had decided that this time around, they would do without the grand symbol of wealth and corrupted power that the old Midgar site had been. Instead, he opted for a simple yet elegant office complex that could be efficiently run on hydroelectricity without overwhelming the grid. A new office for the president was one of the first things to be constructed, and with that addition, of course, came the hiring of a cute secretary that Reno never minded flirting with. However, he rarely saw her or that office. For whatever reason, Rufus preferred to work as much as possible from his permanent residence at the Shinra Cabin. 

Meetings with the Turks felt more like a gathering of old friends, if anything. Their conference room was really just a room in the cabin that a table and a few comfortable chairs had been thrown into. There was a cooler in the corner of the room near windows that overlooked one of the smaller falls, and this was filled with water bottles on the first two shelves and soda cans on the bottom shelf. The cooler was always Reno’s first stop when he came in. He would always grab water, reasoning that he only had room for one type of health damaging drink in his life. But Rude was surprisingly fond of a dark soda called Dr. Mimett, saying that it had a nice bite. 

“If I wanted my drink to bite, I’d have a nice aged whiskey,” Reno had scoffed at the idea of being ‘bitten’ by a sugary drink. “You’re gonna get cancer and diabetes drinkin’ that stuff, partner. You really oughta try water.”

Everyone’s a little bit hypocritical, he thought to himself as he took his usual seat at the table and grabbed for a coaster to set his water bottle down. Of course, Rude went for his usual sugary beverage and then took a seat next to him while looking a bit too much like a kid who had been given a treat.

The day was a lovely one that was perhaps a bit too sunny. Reno and Rude always sat with their backs to the window, but when the Turks’ small blonde member entered, she immediately went over to close the blinds. Elena got herself a water bottle and then settled into her chair while twisting open the top. It gave a little crack and then she gulped the drink down to about halfway before setting the bottle down on a coaster.

“Thirsty, ‘Lena?” One of Reno’s fiery brows rose above his eye.

“Something about the air in Midgar,” she spoke softly. “Tseng and the president were chatting about something. They should be along shortly.”

“Was there anything of interest in Midgar?” Rude asked as he pulled off one of his leather gloves. After sitting it on the table, he grabbed the tab of his drink and used his now bared fingers to pop it open for a sip. 

“Honestly, Rude, those things are going to ruin your complexion,” Elena scolded, rolling her honey brown eyes. 

“Told him,” Reno piped up. Leaning back in his chair, he swung his feet onto the table one at a time and then put his hands behind his head, getting far more comfortable than was professional. 

“Honestly,” the blonde woman scolded as she swatted at his booted feet. “And to answer your question, Rude, no there was nothing new or interesting beyond the distress signal. As I said, the president and Tseng should be along shortly.”

She seemed irritable today, Reno noted this as he slid his feet from the table. Honestly, he couldn’t blame her. She had been planning one of the most important days of her life for over a year now. Deepground was the first major incident to get in the way of that. Though the Turks’ involvement had not been as in depth as the WRO, the Shinra company as a whole had rightfully taken a lot of flack for the incident, which meant investigations and paperwork and traveling. It left very little time for cake tasting and picking out flowers. Now there was this incident. 

Tseng didn’t look too distressed as he and the president entered the room, but Reno knew the leader of the Turks to be a man that was very capable of masking his negative feelings. The dark haired man waited until their president was seated. Then he situated himself at Elena’s side and folded his hands neatly on the table. It was all business on the surface, but for all of them, this was personal as well. After all, an old foe had resurfaced. 

“We must find him quickly and quietly,” Rufus spoke immediately, and the Turks all agreed. 

“The data that I was able to pull from the site was either corrupted or fragmented,” Rude informed them. “I am still going through it.”

“I’ll assist with that,” Elena’s voice was calm, but there was a bit of fire in her eyes. Reno thought again that of course there would be. She would not easily forget the suffering that she and Tseng had faced at the hands of Kadaj’s gang. Hearing that one of them was alive and on the loose would naturally be a spark in a gasoline soaked room.

“Until that is sorted, we don’t know how or why he was in that laboratory,” Rufus touched his chin. “It goes without saying that we need this information. Though we have encountered this group before, it is safe to say that we do not know what we’re up against. Rude, I want you to leave parsing the lab data to Elena. I’m sending you and Reno to the Mideel area. Tseng, I’ll ask you to return to Midgar. Please try to uncover anything that seems even remotely related to Hojo’s research or Sephiroth that you can find. We must find out how this is possible…”

The blond young man that was their president fell into a contemplative silence, lowering his head towards his chest and resting his chin on a raised hand. This signalled the end of the meeting. Having one last question, however, Reno raised his hand as though they were in a classroom. 

“One last thing, Sir. Should we… alert Cloud and his gang? I mean, this seems like the type of thing they should know about.”

“No,” Rufus spoke immediately, raising a piercing gaze to the redheaded Turk. “Not a word to Cloud or to anyone outside of this room, for now. We may need to deploy our troops in the future, but that will depend on how capable the two of you are of finding and quietly apprehending Yazoo on your own. We are going to need him alive, after all.”

“Right, Sir,” Reno nodded. 

Everyone except for the president stood and began to part ways. Tseng gave his future wife a parting kiss on the forehead once they were outside, and she headed towards the office suites while he headed for the helipad to get going for Midgar. Reno and Rude went to a bar. In particular, they went to 7th Heaven. 

“Still hangin’ on to that crush, I see,” the redhead ribbed his partner, whose brown cheeks were a little redder than usual after the beautiful woman that was Tifa Lockhart smiled at them. 

“Ridiculous,” Rude cleared his throat and loosened his tie. “I’m happy for her. I’m happy for them both. After all, they fought the hardest for the planet, so they deserve a good life.”

“What about you, partner?” Reno asked, lifting the decanter of spirits that Tifa had placed on their table. The liquor had just a hint of sweetness that wafted up to the red haired Turk’s nose as he poured the amber liquid into his partner’s glass. He shot Rude a quick glance, but then immediately directed his attention back to what he was doing to be sure that he didn’t overfill. Once Rude had enough, he moved on to his own glass, adding a follow up to his initial question. “Don’t you deserve a good life? You’re a good guy, mostly.”

“Mostly,” Rude smirked as he lifted his glass and tipped it slightly towards his friend in tribute. He downed some of the liquid and then replaced the glass on the coaster with a sigh of contentment. “Hm, settling down…” Trailing off, the bald Turk downed more of his liquor and wiped his mouth. He then tapped his finger against the table for a few moments before shrugging. “It’s a thought, I guess, but not one I entertain too much. Look how it’s going for Tseng and Elena just trying to plan their wedding. It’s a good thing they’re already in love.”

“Yeah,” Reno snorted, leaning back in his chair. “You’re right about that. Getting laid is one thing, but really getting to spend time with someone? Pff. I mean, I guess if nothing works out in the next five years, I could always try dating you.”

“I’m not your type,” Rude snorted. 

“Amen,” Reno laughed as he raised his glass. 

“What about you, though?” Rude asked after they had drank to each other. “Do you see yourself squeezing in a meeting with a wedding planner between investigations of old Shinra science projects?”

“Me getting married, huh?” The redhead let his fingers toy with the rim of his glass. After a beat, he shrugged. “It’s not completely off the table, I guess, but thinking about it, it’d have to be someone like Tifa.”

He hadn’t even noticed that the dark haired woman was in hearing range until she spoke in a somewhat menacing tone, “Someone like me what?” Horrified, he looked up to see her standing over him with a pitcher of beer in one hand and the other hand on her hip. “Uh, well, we’re just kinda talking about the type of girl we’d marry. Not saying I’d marry YOU. Just saying, it’d have to be a girl who could hold her own is all. You know, in case someone got the idea of getting to the Turk through the Mrs.Turk?”

“Hm,” Tifa’s stern expression melted into a smile and then she winked. “How’s Elena doing with wedding planning, anyway? She wanted me to be a bridesmaid. That was the last I heard about it.”

“Something has come up,” Rude cut in with his cheeks looking a bit too much like two tomatoes. He stood, dropping a few bills on the table. “And we should be going.”

“Uh, ok,” the bar host raised her brow. “Tell Elena that Marlene wanted her to know that she’s been growing her own flowers and that they’d be great in the wedding.”

“Oh really? Are those the flowers from the Sector 5 church?” Reno was doing this on purpose, mostly because he was a little too buzzed, but not enough shit faced to want to go home yet. 

“Yeah they are,” Tifa smiled. “We started a community garden, really, so people have been planting all kinds of things that are doing surprisingly well. Marlene handles the flowers, though. She’s got a pretty big patch of them.”

“Uh, ok, well tell Cloud I said hey what’s up,” Reno called as he was being dragged out of the place by his partner. “See ya, Tifa! Good talking to ya!” 

Once they were on the street, the redhead tucked his hands in his pockets while keeping pace with Rude’s quick strides. “You know, I keep thinking about it, though, and we should totally tell Cloud about this. I mean, I got a real bad feeling it’s not going to end well with him not knowing.”

“Is that why you suggested drinking at 7th Heaven?” Rude grumbled.

“It was on the way,” the mischievous Turk smiled, pulling his hands out of his pockets and holding them up to feign innocence. “We’re not going to get any good drinking done in Mideel, you know that. Or excuse me, they’re calling it NEW Mideel now, aren’t they?”

“Whatever,” Rude replied, though to which thing this was an answer to was lost on Reno. 

“I mean, it just doesn’t make sense, Rude,” Reno sighed, finally becoming serious. “The explosion on the highway, the Lifestream rain, and then the Materia explosion. What does it take to put a stop to ‘em for good? The only thing I can think of is Cloud.”

“Well, the order is not to kill him and not to tell Cloud,” Rude answered. 

“Yeah, yeah, orders are orders,” Reno rolled his eyes. “But I’ll tell ya, partner, this is gonna come back and bite us in the ass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to anyone that has read this far! I'm pretty much halfway through writing this first part of the series. For now, I have enough written to confidently say that this will update every Friday, as I'm just editing chapters and posting them at this point. Anyway, thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Yazoo thought he had left behind this dream which pained him so. In it, he was next to someone whose body was warm against his as they lay nestled together in a blanket. This someone was holding his hand, making him feel safe and loved. But suddenly, that person was taken away from him. Their hands parted roughly, and he began to sob while reaching for them. The act of reaching in real life caused him to awaken in Genesis’ bed. His throat felt dry and his body was damp. When a cool cloth was placed against his arm and used to swab it, he understood why. This person who had known his terrifying big brother was taking care of him. Somehow, he managed to say the man’s name with his hoarse voice.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Genesis spoke softly to him. “I’m here for you, little brother.”

These words were comforting, as was the cloth being placed against his head. The fan was a little more audible than usual, and the blasts of air coming from it were stronger and cooler. This provided relief to his overheated body.

The cloth was removed from his head, and the sound of dripping water was heard, followed by the soft rag being used to swab along his neck now. While he worked, Genesis sighed, “I fear that you may need help beyond my knowledge, but I fear placing you in danger even more. Who knows what would happen if I turned up at the hospital with someone who looks very much like Sephiroth when he was younger. Seeing you on the beach was like meeting him for the first time again…”

Yazoo wanted to apologize, but before he could make the attempt, Genesis stood and gently lifted his upper body. He placed pillows behind the silver haired young man’s back to prop him up. Then he gently held a glass of water to his lips. The sickly young man managed to finish a little more than half of it. Then Genesis picked up a bowl and began to spoon feed him fish broth and slightly mushy rice. 

“I suppose we shouldn’t worry too much, as I do have experience caring for little brothers,” the redhead went on. “At the very least, we now have you at a point where you can hold down a bit of solid food. I will add a little fish meat next time.”

He wondered if Genesis was a fisherman as he opened his mouth to accept another spoonful of bland food. Apparently, his caretaker had been spoonfeeding him for a while now, which was concerning because he could not remember those occasions. He wanted to know how much time had passed, but he was almost afraid to attempt to talk, knowing that it would be a struggle. Something was very wrong with him, and it was frightening.

I have to try harder to stay awake…

He told himself this as he watched his nurse take the empty bowl off in the direction that he assumed the kitchen was. Once he was alone, he took the opportunity to lift the shirt he was wearing, noting that today’s garment was black, white, and grey stripes. The bandage was gone now, but the skin in that area was scarred, as healing wounds tend to be. He poked at it, expecting pain, but felt nothing out of the ordinary. This left him with a question of why he had woken to find himself experiencing what he thought was a fever. 

Come to think of it, his body didn’t feel quite as hot or quite as weak now. He felt a bit up to getting out of bed, and so he moved the sheets out of the way, revealing that he was wearing a pair of grey drawstring shorts with white stars on them and black and white striped socks that stopped just above his ankles. He swung his feet down and stood slowly. However, he immediately regretted it, as his head started to swim. Wobbling first, he fell backwards onto the bed and then curled up in a ball to wait out the sudden wave of nausea. Getting out of bed wasn’t a good idea after all.

Will I ever recover?

Genesis returned to find him curled up in a ball, but rather than scold him for getting up, he gently got him under a soft blue blanket and then adjusted the pillows so that he could comfortably lie down. 

“Don’t look so sad,” the red haired man spoke softly to him. “I know how it is to feel that your own body is failing you. It is a miserable, hopeless feeling. But hope, my little brother, is not fruitless for you. We must take it day by day. You may not see it, but I do. Each day, you grow a little stronger. Soon, you will fly from here like a bird with a newly healed wing.”

Take it day by day…

Yazoo told himself that this was the only thing that he could do. Genesis was right that going to a hospital was too much of a risk, and so he gave up on having an official diagnosis for what was wrong with him. His caretaker did suggest that mako poisoning was a likely culprit for his inability to speak, and that made sense. It was mako that he had been smelling while lying on the floor the day of his escape. He had gained enough clarity to understand now that this is what he had done -- escaped to freedom. 

The Lifestream, from which mako is derived, is a beautiful and dangerous thing. It gives life to all of the planet, but if one finds themselves suspended in a solution of its processed form, it fills their head with too many voices to follow. They were still with him, those voices, but thankfully, they were growing fainter day by day. Still, this offered no explanation for why it sometimes felt as though someone else took over piloting his body and speaking for him. He was not the one to ask for help, just as he was not the one who had directed himself to freedom. Someone else had taken the reins that day, but who?

Yazoo barely knew anything beyond his name and that he was a younger brother of Sephiroth. How he even knew that much was beyond him. For this reason, the idea of “flying away” from Genesis frightened him. Here felt like safety. It was the closest thing to a home he could remember having. 

He took it day by day, and each day, there was indeed a small improvement. Gradually, he began to develop the appetite that a six foot tall young man should have. One night, Genesis gave him half of a fish filet, some rice, pickled vegetables and soup to eat for dinner. The redhead had looked on with joy as the food was ravenously devoured and laughed with his eyes sparkling when Yazoo held up his plate, asking for more fish. 

Eating well allowed him to develop the strength to sit up for longer periods of time, and he started to do it unsupported, though his caretaker would make a fuss over him and fluff the pillows whenever he noticed him sitting up this way.

“It will feel better for your back,” Genesis said to him one day as he gently wedged pillows behind him while the silver haired young man hunched forward over a thick book. 

And speaking of books, Genesis had started to read to him the way one would with a sick child. His voice was captivating as he recited poetry and narrated epic tales with the cadence of a seasoned actor. There was always a book on the nearby night table, and whenever Yazoo found that his dreams or his troubled thoughts kept him from sleeping, he would pick it up and hold it out to Genesis with pleading eyes. The redhead would always give him a fond smile as he took the book, saying, “Well then, where did we leave off?”

It was childish, perhaps, but Yazoo wanted his dreams to be filled with knights, and ladies, and dragons, and magic. Anything was better than the dreams of love and warmth being pulled away from him. Unfortunately, a new one worked its way into the rotation. This time, it was of a woman with hair that was such a pale blonde that it appeared white. Her blue eyes would look at him sadly and then fill with tears as she exclaimed, “He has HIS eyes. I can’t… I can’t look at him!” She would always run away, and the same as with the other dream, he would find himself waking up in tears as he reached out for her.

“Your heart yearns for someone, doesn’t it?” Genesis asked him one night. Yazoo was curled up on his side listening as the redhead’s poetic voice read to him a tale of two lovers who had died crying for each other. He gave the other a curious glance, and a gentle hand touched his cheek, pulling away to show him the moisture. “You cry without even realizing it. I wish that I knew who you were crying for so that I could bring them to you. My heart aches for you so, little brother.”

I wish that I could tell you. I wish that I knew…

The names were lost to him. There was only one face that he could remember, but it was only clear to him in his dreams. And his tongue still refused to cooperate with him. Attempting to form words still felt too much like vomiting, so he had started to try less often. 

“It’s not Sephiroth, is it?” Genesis asked as he reached out and gently began to stroke the silvery hair. Out of instinct, Yazoo shut his eyes and his body tensed, but then it relaxed as it remembered that Genesis had never hurt him. He shook his head, and Genesis nodded. “I see. You do…know that he is gone, don’t you?”

Yazoo nodded slowly. He didn’t know how he knew it, but he did. Sephiroth did not exist in mortal form. He was instead a nightmare.

“I wept for days when I found out,” Genesis sighed, continuing to stroke the other’s hair. “Of all the things that I had wished for, even to take his place as a hero to the world, I would never have wished to lose him. There is… too much loss in this world. I had hoped to put a stop to some of it.”

Silence lingered a few moments between them before the poetic man took a deep breath. The calming caresses of Yazoo’s hair was missed when Genesis turned onto his back, but he understood that perhaps his new friend needed time to collect his own thoughts. Sephiroth’s death had clearly weighed heavily on the red haired man, and the mention of it left Yazoo curious. Were they close, his brother and this man? And what was this strange luck to have somehow drifted to the shore where he lived? Or was it something more than luck? Had he been directed by something or someone? He hardly believed that it was fate, and so that left one option that he could think of. 

At length, Genesis turned back to face the other occupant of the bed and smiled a little. “It’s pathetic of me, but I don’t think that I want you to go anytime soon. I...I am lonely too...”

Yazoo looked at Genesis for a few moments before closing his eyes and moving closer to him to curl up. In response, a gentle arm was placed around his body. This was the closest he could remember being to anyone in so long. It felt safe in a way that left him wondering why he had not done this before.

I’m here. If this goddess of yours is willing, I will stay here…

\-------------------

Stress was something that very rarely affected the laid back character that was Reno. However, as he sat in an armchair staring at a report that was telling him a long list of nothing, he was trying his best to ignore the aching that traveled up his neck to the base of his skull and the throbbing behind his eyes. He and Rude had gotten a two room suite at New Mideel Spa and Inn about a week ago. Since arriving, they had gotten exactly nowhere. The few permanent residents here had not seen a strange man wearing a hospital gown or anyone fitting the description of Yazoo. One man had jokingly asked if they were looking for Sephiroth. Reno thumped him on the head when Rude wasn’t looking.

The problem with a resort town is that too many people come and go. New Mideel had been built on tourism with the idea that people would come from all over to enjoy the hot springs, and come, they did. This new town was twice as big as the one that had been destroyed by the Lifestream eruption during the days of Meteorfall. This not only made for a lot of people to attempt to interview, but it meant that people who possibly had information weren’t present at any given time.

It wasn’t like him to let a job cause him anxiety. He thought maybe it was the kale. Rude was arriving with dinner, and he could smell the stuff wafting from the reusable plastic containers. After putting his tablet to sleep, Reno moved it to the end table and sighed. 

“I’m gagging already. I knew the food wouldn’t be good, but damn. I can just feel the years of drinking being reversed.”

“Nothing wrong with a little detox,” Rude offered with a bit of a smirk as he sat the bag down and began to divy up their dinner. 

“So what do we have?” the spikey haired Turk asked, slouching in the direction of the coffee table. 

“Poached fish, steamed green beans, and kale,” was the answer.

“Sounds delicious,” with an eye roll, Reno grabbed a plastic fork and then waved it around by the handle. “You know, this place’s gimmick is supposed to be all about the health of the planet and her people and all that, but I don’t think this is healthy. They say there’s millions of these floating in the ocean somewhere. No one’s ever seen it, but it’s out there somewhere.”

“I’ll ask to borrow metal forks next time,” his partner answered with that dry tone of his. 

“Good, we can wash them off with that detergent they use to wash birds that swim through oil spills,” Reno was on a roll with sarcastic remarks. His partner had clearly noticed, because he raised his brow, causing the redhead to shrug. “Thanks for getting dinner, anyway. I’m gonna grab a can of that sparkling water with the fancy name. Want one?”

“Sure,” Rude nodded as he used his fork to shuffle around the kale on his plate.

Reno grabbed two cans from the mini fridge and returned, flopping in the arm chair and handing one over to his partner before popping the tab on the other. He took a few sips and then sat it aside in favor of staring at his plate in hopes of deciding which bland portion of food to try first. 

“You know,” he frowned. “We’re gonna live forever if we keep eating like this.”

Rude chuckled as he used his fork to break his fish into smaller pieces, “This assignment is getting to you already.”

“Well, I’ve just had entirely too much time to think,” the redhead responded with a bit of a smirk. He then turned serious and shrugged. “I don’t know, man. I’ve just been thinkin’. I stick around the company, one cause I wanna make right for all the stuff I did and all the stuff the whole company did, ya know? But then there’s also Rufus and Tseng. I can’t just bail on them, ya know? So I stick around for them too.” Looking up, he noted that Rude had once again rose his brow. Speaking a bit louder, he added, “And because I have the best partner in the world, of course! And what the heck am I gonna do for a living, anyway? I mean, I wonder if the WRO could use a pilot that also can pick even those high security locks. I don’t exactly have a family name to fall back on. This is it for me.”

It was clear that Rude didn’t know what to say to that, especially the part about not having a family name to fall back on. Rude’s family wasn’t exactly Shinra or Rhapsodos rich, but they got by well enough that they were able to get their son a private martial arts instructor. Conversely, everything that his slum child partner knew had been learned in street fights. 

“Ah, I think I’m just too sober and healthy,” Reno waved his hand at length. “And kind of frustrated— not just with how slow this is going, but just thinking that, man, it feels like we’re trying so hard to make everything right, but every year or two, some new thing pops up that Shinra did wrong, and now it’s back and trying to destroy the world. Can’t we for once come across something tame, like kitten-puppy fusions or something?”

“The company was what it was long before either of us came along,” Rude pointed out. “There will be things we will never be able to make right -- things we will never even find out about.”

“You’re right,” Reno sighed. “I just… I want to find this guy before he can start hurting people, and I wanna do it quick. Our boss deserves to finally have his wedding.”

He had expressed sincere feelings; Reno wanted Tseng and Elena to have their wedding in peace. He wanted to focus on rebuilding and healing, but it was so hard to do that when old wounds were reopened by remnants of Shinra’s dark past. And after all that he had seen, it was a bit unnerving to think that Sephiroth could be preparing for his third shot at attempting to destroy the planet. 

It was not like him to worry too much, but he found himself staring up at the ceiling instead of sleeping that night. If Yazoo was around, it had to mean that Kadaj and Loz were also — this is what he kept thinking and worrying over. He didn’t want to entertain the thought for too long, but it lingered at the back of his mind. Their goal had been to resurrect Sephiroth. 

What if this time they succeeded…?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Better late than never! I got distracted with illness and obsessing over the FF7R demo, which is amazing, btw!


	4. Chapter 4

Day by day… 

Though Genesis had tried to reassure him that he was making leaps in his recovery, Yazoo found that he was impatient and often frustrated with himself. Because of this, it was hard to see the small victories. It was hard to be proud of how he had managed to get to the bathroom on his own when the trip had left him so dizzy that after washing his hands, instead of returning to the bedroom, he had climbed into the clawfoot tub and fallen asleep. Genesis had been outside, but when he came in and carried Yazoo out of the bathtub, he gave him a light scolding for causing him “a fright”. He didn’t want to give himself time; he wanted recovery NOW, and so the stubborn silver haired young man pushed himself. He started pulling himself out of bed, at first to explore around the house for places he could sit up without temptation to lie down. 

As he had guessed, the house, except for the bathroom, was all one large open area, with the bed area sectioned off by the sliding screens. In the area that was sectioned off, there was a closet with sliding doors. This was interesting, as one side was full of quite a few shirts in some shade of red. This had to be Genesis’ side. The other side held a few shirts that were familiar, and the rest were in a similar casual young man’s style. What was more interesting was that except for a few that he could recall wearing, the majority of these shirts still had tags dangling from the sleeves. He wondered if Genesis had gone and purchased all of these new shirts for his ailing house guest or if they had belonged to someone who hadn’t gotten a chance to wear them. 

Moving on, he found a chest of drawers filled with things like socks and underwear. It felt too much like an invasion of privacy to explore here too much, so he didn’t spend much time looking through. Instead, he left the screened area behind to explore the rest of the house. 

In previous days, quick treks to the bathroom hadn’t been enough for him to really familiarize himself with this space. He had been mostly too dizzy to notice that there was a comfortable looking living room area, with a fluffy grey couch and armchair, and several shelves filled with books. Along the far wall away from the door and nearer to the kitchen, a round wooden table with four chairs was home to a copy of Loveless with a slightly worn spine. The kitchen itself was simple -- a stand mixer was about the most modern thing. Staring at the fridge, he managed to dig up a memory of overhearing a conversation about a smart refrigerator and playing a game on the touch panel -- Sky something or another. There was no touch panel on this refrigerator, but it did have a lever that dispensed ice! Yazoo took the two cubes that he was given and put them in his mouth to suck on while he wandered over to a lump covered by a towel on the counter. Just as he was about to pull the towel away, Genesis entered.

“No, no!” the redhead rushed over, causing Yazoo to flinch and drop the corner of the towel that he had been holding. “It’s not time to disturb that yet. It’s dough. I’m making bread for tonight.”

This moment revealed his greatest frustration. Physically, he was making leaps in recovery. The wound on his abdomen appeared to have vanished without a trace, and he was feeling just fine standing there sucking on ice. However, he still couldn’t talk. His brain knew what he wanted to ask, but his mouth would not cooperate. The only thing he could do was point and head tilt in an attempt to convey that he was curious about why the dough needed to have a towel on it -- a damp one, he’d found when he’d lifted it up. 

“It has to rise,” Genesis answered with a smile. The mute little brother smiled as well because, as frustrated as he was with himself, he was being cared for by someone who paid enough attention to notice and try his best to interpret the silent attempts at communication. The redhead reached out slowly, and Yazoo closed his eyes. He still couldn’t help but sometimes to tense up just before Genesis touched him. Even so, he was content with the gentle head pat as the man offered, “Do you want to help make another loaf?”

Of course he did. Standing here in the kitchen, bits and pieces of his life were beginning to come back. More accurately, he was regaining knowledge of things that had been missing from that life. He found simple joy in adding the ingredients to the mixer and watching them form the dough. However, the knowledge that he had never baked with a loved one pulled at his heart. 

All of this was new. His hands had never kneaded dough, and he had certainly never been instructed so gently before. But he could remember instructions now -- a nasally voice yelling at him to do as he was told and to stop daydreaming. Genesis was calm and patient, even when his student got lost in his thoughts. When he physically guided him, his hand was gentle.

“The yeast will need time to rise the dough,” the redhead explained as he began to gently lead him outside after they’d covered Yazoo’s dough with another towel. “Come with me, and I will show you something else. It isn’t as peaceful as baking bread, but it’s another necessary chore if we want to eat.”

This was his first time being outside since Genesis had brought him here. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the sunlight, but when they did, they grew wide in awe of the place Genesis called home. A few steps down from the porch, there was a small area of grass to the left. The rest of the ground was white sand leading up to a shore that was being lapped by translucent blue waves. 

“Town is that way,” Genesis said, pointing to a pass in between two large rocky formations. “But we need to go this way.” He led the way straight ahead towards a small wooden dock. 

In awe of his surroundings, Yazoo followed but craned his head to look back at what he now thought to be the most wonderful house in the world. Behind it, tall trees with big, broad leaves swayed in the gentle breeze that whipped his long hair around. Using his fingers, he fought to keep it out of his face and tailed Gen to the dock. They had a cabin cruiser boat, which was tied on the left side. However, Genesis was tugging on another rope which appeared to stretch a little further out on the water. As it came in, Yazoo realized that it was a big trap filled with several fish and snapping crabs. 

“Oh, I forgot the bucket,” Genesis clicked his tongue. “Would you mind running back to the porch for it?”

Would he mind? He literally ran, and he was exhilarated by the wind in his hair and the feeling of his leg muscles stretching. It was almost too soon that he arrived at the porch, but at least he got to run back. 

“Well, you are feeling better, aren’t you?” When Yazoo presented the bucket, Genesis smiled and began to pull fish out of the top of the trap after opening the hinge. Wanting to help, Yazoo sat down next to him and also began to put fish into the bucket. With his blue eyes brightening, Genesis held up an especially large crab. “I’m going to cook this one for your lunch.”

Of course he wasn’t naive to the fact that animals become food, but he was fascinated by the idea of Genesis pulling fish and crabs out of the sea and then cooking them. Watching the long, spidery legs wiggling made it hard to imagine eating this creature. At the same time, his stomach was already starting to growl. 

When they finished unloading the trap, Genesis put it aside and then led the way back towards the house, carrying the catch bucket. Yazoo followed most of the way, but stopped on the porch to get the sand out of his socks. When he joined Genesis in the kitchen, the man had already gotten a knife and a large wooden cutting board. With a finger, he beckoned the other over and placed one of the larger fish on the board. 

“Angeal showed me how to do this, and then, once we were all friends, he showed Sephiroth. Now I’ll show you.” 

Yazoo didn’t know who Angeal was, but he was naturally curious about what this person could have shown the great General Sephiroth. Genesis started by cutting the head from the fish. Then he used the sharp end of the knife to cut open the belly. All of the guts were cleaned out and the fish was rinsed. Then Genesis worked the knife along the spine so that the blade sounded against the bone. The cut ended just above the tail fin, and when he was finished, he had a filet of fish to turn over on the cutting board. 

“Now the other side,” Genesis said as he worked. When he finished he tossed the head and bones into a large pot. “Those we keep for stock. Don’t make that face! Fish stock made you strong again, and besides, it’s useful for other things.”

He wasn’t aware of making a face, but thought it plausible since he was tired of fish broth and fish soup. Now that he was on solid food, he never wanted to go back. Speaking of solid food, Genesis handed him the knife and gestured to the fish bucket. 

“You clean the fish the way I showed you, and I will prepare lunch,” the latter half of the sentence was spoken with such a grand air that Yazoo decided not to attempt questioning it. Apparently, lunch was going to be very exciting. Or it would be normal. Genesis had such a flare for the dramatic that one could never entirely tell. Perhaps he was just excited over that large crab?

Whatever the case may have been, Yazoo didn’t feel especially excited about cleaning fish. He would obey out of respect for the man who had been caring for him so diligently all of this time, but he was certainly not going to go out of his way to like it, whether it was a skill Sephiroth had learned or not. 

What Genesis was doing seemed far more interesting. Several pots of water were set on the stove, including the stock pot that Yazoo was to throw the bones and heads in. The crab went into the second, and rice was measured into the last. The red head then began gathering things together from the refrigerator and the cabinets while humming. He got a clean knife and another cutting board and then the chopping began. 

Yazoo would have much rather watch Gen cook than clean fish. Luckily, there wasn’t a lot to do, and so he finished by the time Genesis was putting a lid on the boiling rice. 

“I keep meaning to buy a cooker,” the red haired man sighed. “Too much guess work goes into cooking rice this way. Too much could go wrong.”

Fascinating! At least it was for this person whose few memories involved confinement and limited amounts of human contact. He was in awe through every step of the cooking process, and more than happy to help when asked. When the rice finished, he was in charge of scraping it into a large bowl to cool. Then he got to help pull crab meat from the tough shell. The actual cooking was all done by Genesis, however. Everything went into a very large pan in stages and was constantly moved by a wooden spatula. The sizzling coming from the pan was satisfying, but not quite as much as the savory aroma coming from the same pan. The fascinated silver haired young man was tasked with setting the table while lunch was put into a large bowl. 

“Fried rice,” Genesis announced as he put this bowl in the center of the table and added a large serving spoon. “Sephiroth taught me this one, but I learned how to spruce up a package of instant ramen on my own. I’ll teach you that tomorrow!”

They ate mostly in silence, with Yazoo contemplating the many questions that were on his mind. When they finished, Genesis started to take up the dishes, but the silver haired young man put a hand on his arm to stop him. He then made a gesture of washing to say that he would do it. There were no memories of having done this before that he could recall, but he figured that this was a common sense task. 

“You’re so helpful,” his happy caretaker smiled. “Thank you! I’ll just get the fish on ice and then go out for a little exercise. I’ll be right in front of the house if you need me.”

It made him wonder if the person that Genesis had taken care of before was not helpful. How could anyone not want to help a man that fussed so much over the people he cared for? Yazoo contemplated this and several other things while he cleaned up the kitchen and dining area. He had been right, this was a common sense task. In fact, he didn’t even need to think to do it, and so he allowed his mind to wander. This continued after his chores were completed and led to him physically wandering into different spots in the house. 

Physically, he was recovered, but the memories of his life were another story. He chased them as he wandered, but he could only grasp fragments. A lot of them concerned a man who seemed to wear a permanent scowl with his round spectacles. The name was on the tip of Yazoo’s tongue, but he couldn’t quite reach it. He was able to remember that he had spent a significant amount of time with this man in a place that was cold and sterile. In all of his memories, this person was wearing a white coat, but it was not the sort of coat a man wears for cold weather. Who was he, this man with his long black hair, hawk nose, and piercing eyes? Yazoo felt that if he could not remember this person’s name, he would never remember anything.

“Yazoo?” It was Genesis calling his name and lifting him into his arms. Opening his eyes, he realized that they were in the bathroom and that his caretaker looked very relieved. “Not this again! Why do you insist on sleeping in the bathtub? Thankfully, you didn’t run any water…”

Thankfully he hadn’t, indeed, because he couldn’t remember getting into the tub at all, let alone wandering in here. He wished that he could apologize even though Genesis seemed now to be more amused than anything. He was gently laid on the bed and covered with a blanket. 

“It was my own fault for not checking on you more frequently,” the redhead chuckled. “And don’t worry. Weiss was fond of wandering outside or sleeping in the closet. I think the closet was the worst because I was looking for him outside one night when he was in the closet the whole time. I almost broke into sobs, thinking he’d drowned.”

Weiss. Finally, there was a name to attach to the person whose clothes he was wearing. He couldn’t recall where he had learned this, but he knew that the name meant ‘white’ like the color. What sort of person was this white one who had been in Gen’s care?

“You did an excellent job with the kitchen, by the way,” Genesis remarked and then gently pat him. “I don’t think it’s ever been that clean, to be honest. Would you mind helping with that from now on? I’m not much of a housekeeper, to be honest. It drove Sephiroth mad. I used to throw my couch pillows on the floor just to irritate him.”

Yazoo couldn’t help but smile at this story. The great general, the nightmare himself, was annoyed by a friend’s messy apartment. He was also good at making fried rice and could clean freshly caught fish. These stories made Sephiroth feel like a real person instead of a face in his dreams and fleeting memories.

He felt awake now, and so instead of closing his eyes, he removed the blanket and took off his socks. Then he pointed towards the front door. Genesis glanced behind himself and then caught on. “Oh, you want to go outside now? Well, you should. There’s a very nice breeze out. It might be more stimulating for you to explore the outdoors. I’ll take you on the boat tomorrow, if you’d like.”

He loved the idea. As far as he could remember, he had never gone on a boat before!

Outside, he started for the porch railing, only to pause when he noticed a wooden sword leaning against one of the supports. Curious about it, he picked it up and turned it over, feeling the weight of it in his hands. As he took a swing, the memories were like water when a clamp in a hose has been released. After moving onto the sand, he allowed muscle memory to guide him through the stances and positions, watching his shadow on the ground in order to judge his own form. 

“You’re no Sephiroth,” a voice in his memory spoke to him in an accent that was -- Wutai. Yes! His teacher was from Wutai! And he was a sword maker, and he also taught Sephiroth. That was hard to forget when the comparison was always made. 

He was indeed not a Sephiroth because he had chosen another weapon in the end. What was it? Standing still now, he looked at the practice weapon in his hand and struggled to remember. Why didn’t he choose the sword? Was it because Sephiroth was better?

“Look at you,” Genesis interrupted his thoughts by clapping and coming over. “I should have expected that Sephiroth’s little brother would know how to use a sword, but how well can you? Are you as devastating as he is?”

Yazoo shook his head no. Of course he wasn’t. No one could ever be Sephiroth, but he had never escaped the expectation that he should be. He was remembering scissors now. How he’d gotten them, he couldn’t remember, but he could recall being alone in the dark, putting his long hair into a braid and then chopping off a substantial amount of it. Using his fingers to comb some hair forward and then clipping sections to make his own fringe in front, he had created his own identity that day. This was all because he was tired of being called “Little Sephiroth”. Everyone did it. All the scientists. All the teachers. Even him -- the man in the white coat whose name he couldn’t remember. 

“I am Yazoo,” he would say even to that man. 

That man laughed in his face, “Hm, when you become as invaluable as Sephiroth, you can be Yazoo, Kazoo, or whoever you want. Right now, you are no one.”

“Yazoo, are you alright?” Genesis’ voice and a gentle hand on the middle of his back brought him back to the present.

He begged his mouth to give him at least two words, and surprisingly, it complied. It came out slowly, but he was able to say to his caretaker, “I remember…”

\-------

“Tell me again why we’re getting our nails done,” the tone of Rude’s voice was impassive, pretty much as usual, as he watched a cute blonde file his nails. 

The two Turks were seated by each other in pedicure chairs, both wearing stark white robes over their swimming trunks. Their feet were plunged into the bubbling foot spas, while two girls were working on the men’s fingernails. 

Reno was actually enjoying himself. This wasn’t something he would do all of the time, as he saw it as a little too girly for his tastes, but he could admit that this was pretty relaxing. To start the manicure, the girl had massaged his arms and hands with some oils. Then she’d targeted his cuticles, massaging drops of a separate oil into them. Now she was shaping up his usually ragged nails. He wasn’t a biter, but they did break all of the time, so they were never even or neat looking the way Tseng’s or even Rufus’ nails were. Now that they were getting mani-pedis, he kind of suspected that the president and the Turks’ boss often did the same.

But that wouldn’t really be a good answer to Rude’s question -- or would it? He shrugged and leaned back in the chair, letting the calming effect of being pampered do its thing. “Just relax, Rude, my dude. We’ve got nothing else going on. Besides, I’m just going with a clear coat, so don’t feel any pressure to pick a cuter color than mine.”

“I wasn’t…that was not a concern,” Rude made a hmph noise after, causing the flame haired Turk a good laugh. 

“How many years have we worked together now, partner? And you still don’t know when I’m giving you a hard time?”

“Isn’t that all of the time?” Rude made a small noise of amusement. “I still don’t understand why we need to get our toe nails done as well. I’m not in the habit of letting people see my feet.”

“Well, there’s beach all around, bud,” Reno pointed out. “So we might as well think about buying some shoes that don’t collect an entire castle’s worth of sand in them. I know we’re here on official business, but you gotta admit, it gets pretty hot in that suit.”

After Rude agreed, the conversation sort of died off. His partner was never one for a lot of words, anyway, and while everyone in town knew they were Turks, they were still cautious about discussing work in too great detail outside of the suite they were renting at the inn. Reno just hoped that they would find something soon. Having a spa day was nice and all, but he could go for a beer or several, which was one thing this place didn’t have -- alcohol of any form except wine. He supposed he could get drunk on that, but if anything, it would probably make him sleepy first. 

In fact, he was starting to nod off now, but before his brain could conjure up any images for dreams, there was a slap against his knees and a familiar, angry feminine voice yelling his name. His first thought was that it was an old girlfriend who was vacationing here as well in a sense of bad timing. When he opened his eyes, he was both relieved and disturbed to find Elena glaring down at him.

“What the heck are you two doing?!” She demanded, putting a hand on her hip and shifting her weight to one foot in that nagging mother stance she often took when she caught them doing what she saw as slacking off.

“We’re working,” Reno replied. “We don’t have much to go on, so what else is there to do but blend in?”

“This is Wutai all over again,” she threw up her hands. 

“No, because we were on actual vacation that time, and the old man you were about to marry was a lot fatter.”

“I thought we agreed to never bring that up,” she hissed, obviously still sore about the Don Corneo incident. It was funny, at least to Reno, because she had been so grateful that they’d gone out of their way to rescue her and that they’d even gone as far as working with their then enemy Cloud Strife and his party. Huffing, she started to storm away. Thankfully, Reno and Rude were pretty much done when she had come in, and so they were able to find her in their suite soon after. “Do you guys want to find him or not? Before he kidnaps children again?!”

“Of course we do, Elena,” Reno put a hand on her shoulder to reassure her. “And I get why you’re impatient, but this…” he paused to gesture around them. “This is almost impossible. While the locals all know each other, there’s so many people just coming and going on vacation. No one’s seen anything, so the only thing I can think of to do is kind of mingle and wait.”

“It isn’t exactly Midgar,” Rude gently reminded her. Of course, people had been much easier to find there. Few people ever came to that city just to visit, and very few of the residents ever left. Only the very rich and/or the very strong could afford safe travel in those days. 

“We also don’t exactly have Reeve on our side,” Reno added, reminding her of how they had tracked Cloud’s party so effectively. 

“I know,” she sighed, shrugging away from the two. “But you guys should know I can’t plan a wedding knowing that they’re out there. This is… personal.”

“Look, we’ll get out there today and go through again,” Reno reassured her. “Lots of new arrivals today, so maybe someone knows something.”

“I hope so,” she sighed. So did he.

But it was more of the same. No one had seen any unusual persons fitting Yazoo’s description. In fact, no one had seen a person with silver hair at all. For laughs, the Turks went back through all of the locals and asked again which permanent residents were out of town and when they might be returning. 

“I’ve been asking HQ for a track down of this person,” back in the suite, Reno pointed out a name in his list to Elena. “Mr. Whitaker. No one has a first name. They said he used to come into town every now and then for basic supplies, but he just stopped coming. No one is exactly sure of where he lived before.”

“Somewhere secluded, maybe?” Elena asked. “How long ago was it the last time anyone saw him?”

“A year or so?” Reno answered with uncertainty. “I don’t think he’d know anything since our target has only been out for about a month, but I just wonder what happened to him. He’s probably dead.”

“Probably,” Elena agreed and put a hand to her chin. “But, we could use this as an excuse to do an aerial sweep. If the public asks why, we can just say it’s because someone was concerned and asked us to. There doesn’t have to be a definite answer of who, and it’ll help keep the public from becoming alarmed.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll call it in,” Reno was actually eager to do so because it was something that felt like they were getting somewhere with this case. This matter was too delicate to go all out, as the people already had questions about who they were looking for. Reno would not forget that man who had asked if they were looking for Sephiroth, and he worried that more of the locals were assuming the same.

It seemed the world had already forgotten the three remnants. At least those outside of Edge had, if they’d ever even heard of them. Without something like Meteor looming in the sky, most of the world never even knew when they were in danger. Besides, most of the kidnapped children had been orphans. The sad truth of their world was that few people cared or noticed when orphans went missing -- he knew that from experience. 

“Alright,” he flopped down in a chair after his call and picked up his tablet again. “Chopper should be here at 0600.”

“That’s a good time,” Elena nodded. “Most people will still be asleep or not wandering in the areas we plan to sweep, at the very least. What else do we have?”

“A bunch of nothing,” Rude chimed in, putting his own tablet down on the table. “No news from the rookies who were going down the list of inn check ins, nothing from Tseng in Midgar, and as for the list of people who only come into town every now and then, it is a situation of waiting for a call.”

“That’s assuming they’ll call,” Elena sighed as the three all leaned back in their respective seats. “What story are you guys telling these people, anyway? I want to keep it consistent in case I decide to do some interrogations of my own.”

“We’re just telling them he’s wanted for questioning,” Reno shrugged. “Gotta keep it simple or people will think we’re after someone dangerous, which we are, but we don’t need them spreading it around to get back to the WRO, right?”

“Right,” the blonde sighed again. “I’m going to step out and give Tseng a call. Be back.”

“Geez, she’s in a mood,” Reno sighed once she was gone. Rude nodded his agreement and picked up his tablet again as his partner went on. “Can’t say I blame her. She’s tough on her own, but I can’t imagine she was ok with watching Kadaj and friends hurting Tseng. Look at her. She’s not gonna even sleep good until we find this guy.”

She was walking like someone who had been constantly on their feet, but was fighting their best not to appear tired. A caged tiger would pace less. She did stop suddenly, glancing over the railing of the balcony. Then she hung up and rushed back inside. Instead of walking up to them, she headed for the exit to their suite, causing her two coworkers confusion. 

“What is it?” Reno called after her, getting up. 

“I gotta catch him!” she called back as she rushed out. “I think I just saw someone really familiar!”

“What? Who?” Reno and Rude were trying to catch up to their blonde coworker, who was now outside trying to catch up to this mystery person. 

The trouble was, there was a crowd today. There were always a lot of people coming and going between the inn, the hot springs, the spa, and the various shops, but today was especially busy due to it being the beginning of some student holiday or another. Reno had never really done school, so he couldn’t say from the top of his head which one it would be. 

As for the mystery person, Elena had gotten away from them for a bit, but they found her standing around looking disappointed. “He got away,” she sighed when they joined her. 

“But who did you think it was?” Reno asked. 

“It’ll sound crazy if I tell you, so I want to make sure before I throw this out there,” she answered and then rushed back for the inn. “I’ve got to do some deep digging in the Shinra archives, probably. Wish me luck. If I’m right, this is going to be crazy!


	5. Chapter 5

“You’re warm again…” 

Yazoo had been lying in the center of the bed, curled up into a ball as he drifted in and out of a light doze, when he felt Genesis’ weight settle on the bed. A cool hand lightly touched his forehead, and that report had followed. The redhead sighed as he got up again. A short while later, he returned and began to gently mop Yazoo’s forehead with a dampened cloth. 

“It’s my fault. I pushed too hard.”

But that was not it at all, at least this was how Yazoo saw it. Out on the beach, Genesis had asked the silver haired youth if he wanted to spar, and Yazoo had of course said yes. He had wanted to see what his caretaker could do, and he also wanted to test himself. 

“I’ll go lightly with you,” Genesis had promised. “I don’t want to push you too far.”

And then he’d thrust his wooden sword right at Yazoo’s face. Instinct caused him to quickly step away while parrying with his own practice sword. He took the opportunity to rush back in, attempting to attack Genesis’ exposed body, but the red head was too quick. It was like a dance to the beat of wooden clunks whenever their fake swords came into contact with each other. Genesis did not have an overly muscular physique, but he was strong, and when he pushed against Yazoo, the silver haired young man found himself digging his feet into the ground and relying on his leg strength to push back. 

“Maybe I don’t need to take it lightly after all,” the redhead smirked as they struggled against each other. 

Yazoo smirked back, and when they broke away Genesis came after him once more with feeling. Like a cat, Yazoo twirled and pranced away, but the red haired swordsman would not give him an opening, at least not one that Yazoo could see. Their swords would barely touch before Genesis was swinging or thrusting again at any perceived opening in Yazoo’s defense. The silver haired young man was good at deflecting, but he could feel that this could go on all night if he didnt find a way to land an attack on Genesis. What’s more, his body wasn’t quite ready for this level of activity. His muscles, especially in his legs, began to ache a little, and his breathing picked up. 

“We can stop whenever you say when,” Genesis’ voice seemed to be taunting him, and something in Yazoo did not like that. 

He had moved back to catch his breath, but now his body launched forward, holding his sword with the tip aimed at the ground. Genesis brought his sword down in an arch, but Yazoos sword arm swung upward to deflect with such strength that it made the redhead's sword arm fly backwards. This was the opening. Yazoo rushed forward and slashed at the other’s unguarded body. Genesis’ sword just made the block. Now his features crossed together in concentration as he was the one being forced to defend from a silver haired swordsman who flew at him like a specter from the past. 

While it was exhilarating moving this fast and with this amount of skill, Yazoo recognized two things. One, his body was being put under tremendous strain, and two, he was not the one in control. It was as though someone was piloting him from the inside. It frightened him. 

“No,” he spoke softly. Then he screamed, “No, stop!”

At that moment, he fell to the ground, panting and gasping for air. His lungs burned and his temples throbbed while the muscles in his arms and legs screamed. 

“Yazoo,” a panicked Genesis rushed to his side and picked him up. “It’s ok. Let’s get you to bed!”

And so this is where they were, Yazoo with a fever and Genesis blaming himself when the only person to blame was a ghost. Turning onto his back, Yazoo looked up at his friend and caretaker, seeing the guilt and worry in his eyes. Not knowing what else to do, he took the other’s hand. 

“You forgive me?” Genesis asked softly. 

Yazoo shook his head and then sighed as he nodded. There was nothing to forgive, but he couldn’t say that. 

“I became overly excited,” the redhead spoke softly. “It was like sparring with him all over again. The last time, I was the one who ended up hurt. Everything became a nightmare after that. Now I look at you and I see his eyes, and I ask myself if I’m dreaming...”

HIS eyes…

Those words echoed in Yazoo’s head and he turned onto his side to escape. Was this to be his life — constant comparisons to the night terror that his older brother had become? Genesis was grieving heavily for Sephiroth, and it was clear that there was unfinished business between those two. This left him wondering if perhaps it was better to leave here as soon as possible for the other’s sake. He didn’t want to be a constant reminder of pain and loss. 

“I’m sorry,” Genesis spoke softly, interrupting these thoughts. “I know you are not him, and you do not deserve the constant comparison. I just wish that there was a way to know who you really are. You tell me that you’re Sephiroth’s brother, and I believe you, but then where did you come from? Until us, he was alone.”

Yazoo sat up and put on half of a smile as he patted Genesis on the head. Just as he would have guessed, the red hair was both silky and fluffy. He liked it enough that it made his smile a little more genuine. But after this moment, he took in a slow breath and exhaled as he laid back among the pillows. He couldn’t explain why Sephiroth would never speak of him, other than the possibility that he had never known there were younger siblings. Would anything have changed had he known? 

“I’m going to get that bread into the oven,” Genesis sighed as he stood. He went as far as the opening in the screens and then spoke over his shoulder. “I’m sorry for being so...dramatic. My uncle used to call me Mr. Centerstage.” He chuckled and then left Yazoo alone to contemplate this nickname. 

He didn’t like it. While it was true that Gen could be dramatic, it felt as though the name mocked him for his self expression. As someone who was struggling to express himself, Yazoo admired the way that his new friend spoke his mind and made his feelings known. He loved how something as simple as fried rice for lunch felt exciting because of the way Genesis announced it. He especially enjoyed listening to him read. A career on stage would have suited Gen well, but Yazoo thought it would be a waste of a swordsman. The redhead was good. Sephiroth’s younger brother decided that he wanted to learn to be that good. 

Dinner that night was fish stew and freshly baked bread. When Genesis served him in bed, he made sure to point out that they were eating Yazoo’s loaf. It was quiet after that. Genesis ate at the table and then cleaned up after insisting his charge stay in bed. His mood seemed lowered, and this made Yazoo wonder if it was his fault. When his caretaker returned a short while later, he called to him. 

“What is it?” Genesis asked, sitting next to him. 

Go slowly, Yazoo told himself. He tried thinking hard about what he wanted to say, and then pushed his tongue against his teeth. 

“Th-th-than…” the more he tried, the more frustrated he became as he couldn’t get past the first syllable. Anger took over and he balled his fists against the blankets. 

“It’s ok, you don’t have to,” Genesis began, but Yazoo’s mood took over as he kept trying, and he slammed his fists against his legs before beginning to cry. Genesis reached out and pulled him close. “Oh no, it’s ok, really! Oh, I know you’re frustrated with yourself and you’re tired of me asking you to take it day by day. We will figure this out, Yazoo. Please believe me. We can do this!”

But it was so hard to believe. Lying in bed that night, he stared at the ceiling and let the tears slowly roll down the sides of his head. Something between his brain and his mouth was broken. What if a few words here and there was all he would ever be able to manage? Would he live his life locked inside of his head? The voices were pretty much gone at least, but that made it so lonely.

He slept in fits that night, getting up just before dawn to go out and sit on the dock. As he watched the sunrise, he kept asking himself what he had done to deserve this. Sephiroth had apparently lived his life and died for his cause, whatever that may have been. It was his voice that was always loudest in Yazoo’s head, telling him what to say and do, the younger brother was almost sure of it. Why hadn’t he done these things with his own life? 

Why didn’t you come to save me...?

He had been out there a few hours, watching the waves and feeling hopeless when Genesis approached with a brown paper bag. Sitting next to him, he briefly hugged the sulking silver haired young man. Then he poured the contents onto Yazoo’s lap. 

“Flash cards,” Genesis smiled as he explained. “I know it sounds dumb at first, but when my grandmother had a stroke, she had trouble speaking too. So we helped her with flash cards like these. The doctor said it was because she needed to make new pathways in her brain, and the flash cards helped with that somehow?” Posing the last as a question, Genesis then waved his hand. “Anyway what matters is she was able to speak and write again. I know we haven’t really tried seeing if you could write.”

Yazoo shook his head at this. He didn’t want to try that. If his brain couldn’t work enough to talk, he was almost certain it wouldn’t work enough to spell things right. Or he was just afraid of the disappointment. Either of those felt like a good excuse not to try. 

“You can say at least one word at a time,” Genesis went on. “I noticed you tend to trip up when you’re trying to form more complex sentences. So let’s start with simple words, ok?”

Yazoo took a deep breath and then nodded. At this point he was willing to try anything…

————-

Elena had been gone for so long that Reno didn’t think she would be back for the rest of the day. Instead of waiting for her, he and Rude suited up and headed back out to again ask the people if they had seen anyone unusual. The trouble was, their coworker had jetted off without even leaving them a description, so they were stuck with once again asking about Yazoo. 

“Are you sure you’re not looking for Sephiroth,” that same old man asked him. By now, they had been around enough times for Reno to learn that he was a Tai Chi instructor. He thought that was pretty cool, but he still wanted to hit the man for stirring up this kind of trouble. 

“Look, sir,” Reno spoke after a breath. “I know this is a joke to you, but this kid is actually really sick with a genetic disease and Shinra is trying to help him, ok? If people think he’s Sephiroth and start screaming at him, he’s going to avoid people, which is bad because he needs people to help him, got it?”

“Yeah, I got it,” the old man shrugged. “But I still haven’t seen him.”

When they returned to the inn, Elena was still gone. Reno decided to call it quitting time and started to head out in a robe. 

“Where are you going?” Rude asked, raising his brow. 

“Just going to get one of those neck tension massages,” Reno answered with a shrug. “Wanna come with? Apparently it’s covered by company insurance.”

“Why not?” Rude shrugged and followed him out. 

That night, Reno found himself lying in bed staring at his alarm clock as he wondered how things would even go when they caught up to Yazoo. His mind replayed the security footage and then his memories of the silver haired young man. Those memories included having the shit kicked out of him and flying about three blocks away. Compared to the surveillance footage, something seemed very off. Yazoo hadn’t kicked anyone. He’d set them on fire and sent them flying just by lifting a hand. What else could he do?

With barely an hour left to sleep, the Turk finally drifted off. In his dreams, he saw Yazoo’s face -- those catlike green eyes in particular. Then the features morphed only slightly, and it was Sephiroth. Then there was fire. He startled awake and saw that it was 4:15 AM. That was enough sleep. 

Reno and Rude met the chopper just outside of town at 6:00 AM on the dot. They swept the outer perimeter of town first and then began to pass over the islands. Not far from town, there were a few cabins and bungalows here and there, but The Turks had been made aware of these and had already spoken with most of the occupants. What surprised them was a cabin to the northeast. 

“That must be our house,” Reno called to Rude. “We’ll do one more sweep and head back. Then we’ll pay this place a little visit on foot.”

“A solid plan,” Rude agreed

But when they got back, Elena was waiting for them. She pulled them back into the suite and immediately gave them two printed pictures. “Do you know who that is?”

“Genesis Rhapsodos,” Reno answered the second he recognized the old picture. “What’s he got to do with anything? Wait, is that who you think you saw?”

“That is exactly who I saw,” Elena answered as she poked at the picture. “His hair is longer, but he hasn’t changed.” 

“You’re telling me that you saw Genesis Rhapsodos just casually walking around New Mideel,” Reno raised a skeptical red brow. 

“Yes,” the blonde woman replied with an annoyed tone. “That’s who I saw. And since I knew you guys were still out, I took the liberty of asking the people who are already up and about. They call him Mr.G.”

“Mr.G!” Reno immediately scrambled for his tablet and pulled up his notes. “Yeah he’s one of those people that rarely come in town and no one knows where he lives. I’m not shocked no one told me he came in, but I have just so many other questions. Genesis Rhapsodos, Rude!”

“We have him listed as killed in action,” Rude remarked as he took a seat to pull up what he still could access on Genesis. “That was the status, as of the Nibelheim incident.”

“Well, the focus from then on was Cloud and Zack,” Reno spoke quietly. 

“You mean Cloud Strife, Cloud?” Elena asked as she too sat down. Reno could only nod, as he was taken a bit far back by all of this. The blonde continued, “Well, it makes sense to find Genesis around here. I’m just surprised no one here seems to recognize him.”

“Well, Banora was pretty much wiped off the map,” Reno replied. “I can’t even remember whatever happened to the Rhapsodos family, but they didn’t stick around. Mideel was built for tourists by tourists so it makes sense they wouldn’t really remember Genesis. I mean, Shinra basically erased him and Angeal Hewley.”

And it had been frighteningly easy to do, he added in his thoughts. Everyone had been expendable and easily forgotten if they weren’t named Sephiroth. The world would never forget the great general, no matter how hard Shinra tried to make them. 

“Genesis Rhapsodos,” Rude spoke quietly, leaning his chin onto his hands. 

“I know! This whole thing just keeps getting crazier and crazier!” Reno shook his head. “So do we pursue him? Do we question him? What does Tseng say about this?”

“He and the president are talking it over now,” Elena replied. “Technically, Genesis is wanted, or at least he was under the old president.”

“Yeah, but how long has he been there just living on the beach?”

“Exactly,” Elena nodded slowly. “This needs to be handled very delicately. Even if we don’t try to take him in, I can only imagine his reaction if we go there asking him about someone who looks so much like Sephiroth…”

It would not go over well, Reno imagined. This meant that the investigation would have to wait. The last thing they needed was to trigger an ex SOLDIER. 

“Hm,” Rude leaned back in his chair, taking on thoughtful expression. 

“What’s up, partner?” Reno asked, glancing his way. 

“I’m just thinking. Having Genesis Rhapsodos around complicates things for Shinra even further. He knows a lot.” 

“Well, he’s responsible for a lot too,” Reno pointed out. “Probably none of this would be happening if it wasn’t for him. Sephiroth would still be…”

They all fell silent, with Reno falling deep into pondering a world in which Sephiroth had never taken that mission in Nibelheim. Would he still be Shinra’s prized pet or would he have pursued another path? It was hard to imagine such a man as Genesis Rhapsodos living in a secluded cabin on the beach, but apparently Sephiroth’s old friend had been doing that for probably longer than anyone could guess. 

Another sleepless night came to him, leaving him staring at the shadows cast by the plants outside of the window as he asked himself what was the difference between himself and Shinra’s general. Sephiroth’s career had begun a few years before Reno’s, but they were no different from each other in the beginning. Both followed orders without question, though Reno always felt like he did it with a little more style than his senior. Both had blood on their hands. So Sephiroth had done more face to face killing. Reno had still flipped the switches and pushed the buttons he was told to push. To those who lose loved ones, death is death. Lives and dreams were crushed under the fallen section of Midgar, but Reno didn’t have to live with faces. Or did he? 

He tried rolling over, but it didn’t stop him from seeing Zack’s face. He couldn’t forget Angeal either. If they were around, would they have stopped the Turk from pushing that button in Sector 7 that day? 

This investigation was letting him think too much, he decided. It allowed him too much time to consider things like how his drinking had picked up a lot after Zack’s death. The destruction of Sector 7 had just added to his reasons for pouring that next glass. Now here he was, with only wine to keep him from comparing himself to a hero who had become the villain by his own choice. Shinra hadn’t made Sephiroth kill all those people. It could be argued that they contributed to the poor mental health that had led to his decisions, but it was certainly not an order from HQ to slaughter an entire reactor town. Shinra had lost so much money covering that up…

He just wanted to drink and not think about these things, but he found himself remembering another face with catlike green eyes. 

_“All we want is to be with Mother…”_

Those were Yazoo’s words back then. Reno had scoffed because really what kind of mother was Jenova? Her favorite son had gone crazy and had ended up puppeteering three Mini Sephiroths in an attempt to regain the physical presence he had lost in pursuit of becoming a god or what the hell ever it was he had wanted to be. In the end, they were all being controlled by him. Yet, they’d had feelings and emotions, hadn’t they? Yazoo wanted to be with his mother... 

Reno had mocked the trio then, but he could feel empathy now. All of the alcohol in the world could not erase his nights spent reaching out in his sleep for a mother who would never reach back. Every step he had taken for as long as he could remember had been in pursuit of a family and of a safe place to belong. He had found it with the Turks, and he had done what he had done because obeying meant he could have drinks with Rude, and he could be Tseng’s favorite headache, and he could tease Elena, and dear Gaia, he was getting emotional. 

Rolling over again, he decided that he would find this kid and the other Mini Sephiroths too. Once that was done, he was taking a vacation, and he was going to drink until he couldn’t think anymore...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it April 10th yet? I'm seriously ready to play Cloud for the 19848th time, but now with eyelashes!


	6. Chapter 6

“Hey, Yazoo, lunch!”

Yazoo was sitting outside on the porch with his flashcards, going over them by himself, but hearing that food was up, he gathered them into their box and headed inside to sit at the table. Genesis was just finishing up, humming along to some classical music coming from a small radio on the counter. Coming over, he sat a bowl down in front of the silver haired young man and then sat down with his own, leaving the charge to stare at it in confusion. This was definitely not fish or anything else that he could recall eating, but it smelled good.

“Cheeseburger macaroni,” Genesis explained as he picked up his fork. “Between us, I think Angeal lived on it.”

That name again. He was the one who was responsible for the fact that this household ate well, though their cuisine was typically seafood. Every now and then, Genesis would go into town to trade their catches for other things they needed, but mostly, they ate a lot of fish. This lunch wasn’t bad, but it did make him curious about this person who was mentioned every now and then. The only thing he knew for certain was that Genesis was very fond of this Angeal and that he had returned to the Planet. 

“Sephiroth couldn’t stand it,” Genesis went on with a little laugh and then sighed. “But I… I get a craving for it every now and then. Do you like it?”

Yazoo shrugged. He liked the cheese and meat, but the macaroni didn’t taste like much to him, and he wasn’t sure that he liked the texture. He couldn’t imagine eating this and only this to a point that someone would declare he lived on it. Still curious, he decided to ask about another person who came up a lot in their conversations. 

“And Weiss?”

Genesis smiled a little. Since getting the flashcards, Yazoo’s speech was showing improvements thanks to how hard they worked. To start, he was only asked to say the names of the animals and objects pictured, but then he was asked to spell them, and from there, they moved to saying the names and spelling them as fast as he could. He was improving, though he was still reluctant to speak much outside of these exercises, and he had yet to attempt writing anything down, but a two word question, he could manage. It was enough that he was able to feel that he could have conversations with his companion, and Genesis was always happy to hear his voice. This time, however, the moment was bittersweet. Weiss, like Angeal and Sephiroth, was a difficult subject for Genesis. Yazoo found himself sometimes staring at the ceiling, wondering what had happened to that person. He was dressing himself every day in clothing that had to have belonged to Weiss, so he knew that they were about the same height and build. Beyond that, the man was a mystery that he felt drawn to, and so he gave in to curiosity. 

“Weiss...at first, he liked anything I put in front of him,” Genesis continued with that half smile. “But we travelled a bit once he was on his feet again. In one city, we went to a place that sells only chicken tenders and french fries, and that was the beginning of Weiss’ obsession with ‘chicken tendies’, as he calls them. Fried pieces of breaded chicken became the mark that every other food is judged against. A lot of foods have lost.” 

Genesis paused to chuckle, obviously having a fond memory. He then went on, “I told him once that he was going to get fat. This made him go into a lecture about metabolism that was so scientific that my eyes glazed over. It was like disagreeing with Sephiroth, except Sephiroth would never justify an obsession with fried foods. I would pay money to see those two have that argument, though.”

“Wow,” Yazoo shook his head. He’d had chicken tenders once before, home made by Genesis. He definitely didn’t understand the obsession.

“Do you have a food you like a lot?” Genesis asked. Yazoo pondered it and then shrugged. The redhead smiled at this, “Well, I know what you’re tired of, for certain. You’ll never forgive me if I try to serve you another bowl of fish broth, will you?”

Yazoo chuckled at this and then shrugged. If it was served, he’d have his complaints, but he would eat it. He wasn’t fussy the way that Weiss apparently was. Still, this Weiss sounded like he was a very interesting character and apparently very smart too. His childish obsession with chicken tenders made him think of someone else. The name was on his tongue, but he couldn’t reach it in all of the memories of speaking to this person. 

“Don’t cry…” 

“Are you crying right now... ?”

“Well, crying is not going to fix it…”

What was his name?! As he tried to dig into it, he felt convinced that he was just as prone to crying as the person he had been making fun of, because a lot of tearful moments came back to him. And he could hear that person’s voice speaking to him now in a moment where the teasing couldn’t make either of them laugh. 

“It won’t be like this forever. He’ll come for us...”

There was always a feeling that something was missing from his life. Here with Gen, he was happy. In fact, this was probably the happiest he had been in all of his existence. Still, there were nights when a dream or nightmare would wake him before Genesis or even the sun, and he would wander out to stare at the sky and ask himself the question he had been asking in his prison. 

“Isn’t someone missing me?” 

“What’s wrong, little brother?” A gentle hand was placed on his, bringing him back to the present. 

Shaking his head, he finished up his food and headed to the kitchen for more. Trying to talk about it would only lead to more frustration. At the very least, he could be happy that some memories were coming back, even if very few of them were happy. He could not escape the feeling that the more he dug, the more pain he would find.

“You know,” Genesis began, having apparently followed him the short distance to the kitchen. Taking the serving spoon, he began to add to Yazoo’s bowl while continuing to speak, “Another thing that helped after Grandmere’s stroke is that she started to write. She wrote starting with the earliest thing she could remember and then went through her life. I never got to read it, but I’m told it was fascinating.”

Yazoo sighed and looked down, “What if...I can’t…?”

“Well, you managed to ask me that when, remember, you could barely say a word when I found you,” Genesis put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him with warm eyes. “You can’t live your life being afraid of disappointment, Yazoo. If it turns out that you can’t, then we’ll work on it together. BUT if it turns out you can, just think of all the conversations we’d finally be able to have!”

“I’ll try,” Yazoo replied after a breath. But first, he was going to eat. He’d love to hear Weiss’ verbal thesis on metabolism. Maybe it would explain why he always found himself ravenous around meal times.

“Good,” Genesis smiled and patted his head. “Let’s remember to go slowly. Mako Sickness can completely destroy a mind, but yours is strong. It just needs time to heal.”

It would do no good to try pointing out how tired he was of waiting for the healing. He flopped in his chair to finish lunch, and then he began to clean up while Genesis, who complained of being sweaty and smelling of fish, went off to soak in the tub.

He finished with the dishes fairly quickly and then went over to the end table where they kept his flashcards. He had seen what he thought to be a notebook in here before, and so he retrieved that now. The cover was black and it was bound with black metal rings. Taking it to the table, he opened it, expecting to find blank paper to write on. Instead, he found Genesis -- or rather he found a very striking likeness of him done in pencil. Was his new friend an artist? This had never been mentioned before. Flipping through, he found another portrait, this time of the man reading a book. Then he found several sketches of Genesis in various poses, leading him to the conclusion that this had to be someone else’s work. There were quite a few still life type works in here as well. He also came upon a picture of a beautiful woman, and his first thought was that this must be The Goddess from Loveless. With her flowing hair and a crown of jewels, she certainly looked like one. He stared at her for quite a while because there was something very familiar about her face, especially her eyes. At length, he flipped through and paused in his breathing. The picture was of two babies -- they had to be babies, because they were swaddled together in a blanket inside of what looked to be a basket. What shook him the most was that the babies were turned on their sides and one baby was holding the other’s hand.

For a few moments, it felt as though the room was spinning. He had to know if there was more, and so he turned the page. Then he found the explanation. The next several drawings were of a little boy with light colored hair holding the hand of a smaller boy with dark hair. Weiss and a younger sibling, perhaps?

Yazoo ran a hand through his hair as he stood and returned to the drawer, searching for pencils. Seeing these drawings had jogged yet another memory, and he was determined to get this down. He was remembering that man with the hawk nose and the round glasses again. This time, the memory was of giving him a drawing. 

“Look, Professor!” small Yazoo had said. “It’s you!”

The Professor in question had taken one glance at the drawing and then balled it up, shoving it into his pocket. “It looks nothing like me. Fortunately, Shinra is not paying for you to become an artist.”

“Shinra,” the young man that the boy had become spoke softly in the present. “Shinra and… Professor...Professor…?”

Damn it, the name was right there! He found the pencils that he now knew had belonged to Weiss, and he returned to the table. Then he let memory take over. The first thing he did was to draw the Shinra company logo. He then labeled it Shinra Corporation, and he felt excitement run down his spine like electricity. He then began to think of that man with a feeling of spite as he drew his face. When he’d done that first portrait in crayon, he had been about eight or so. It was a guess because he didn’t know when his birthday was, but whenever the professor dictated notes, he would always specify the boy’s age, height, weight, and blood type. He never called him Yazoo, though. He was always JPN03 -- his specimen name. Because he had been a guinea pig. That’s right! The white coat was a lab coat. Yazoo was being studied for some reason. And the scientist -- well, after 45 minutes, he wasn’t completely finished because he hadn’t bothered to shade and fill in details, but he had enough to recognize the face and to whisper to it. 

“I remember you, Professor Hojo…”

\--------------------------------------

It was 9 AM, which meant that he had definitely slept through not one, but two alarms. This also meant that the sleepless nights were finally getting to him. Usually, he could correct his sleeping schedule by passing out drunk around ten or eleven. He would then be fine to wake up at 7 and stroll into HQ by 8. But the lack of being able to drink something hard, God, it was killing him. Why he hadn’t brought along a few bottles of booze was beyond him, but it was too late to cry about it now, especially with Elena standing over him. 

“There’s news from HQ! What are you doing in bed still, you bum? Get up!”

“I’m up,” he grumbled. “Geez, can you wait in the other room or something? Less you wanna explain to Tseng why you saw my Moogle boxers.”

Elena picked up a pillow and tossed it on his face, “Hurry up!”

He waited until the sound of her heels was distant enough to get out of bed and pull on his pants from the floor over boxers that were indeed Moogle printed. Then he went off to the bathroom to take care of morning business. When he made it to the living area, he flopped into a chair and gave Rude an appreciative nod as a cup of hot black coffee was passed to him. He then waved away the painkillers that were offered out of habit. Having a hangover at this point would be a blessing.

“So, what’s the news?” he asked after he got a few sips of Joe in his system.

“There’s a big storm out Midgar’s way right now, so he’s delaying until tomorrow, but Tseng is coming!”

Reno took another sip of his coffee and shot a glance at Rude, finding the bald man too busy with his tablet to have noticed. Sighing, Reno stretched out his legs, “That’s the big news? You two are gonna have an early honeymoon?”

“What? No, you dummy!” Elena folded her arms and knit her brows together as she glared at the flame-haired Turk. “He’s coming here to talk to Genesis. Tseng and the president came to the conclusion that it’s best to just pardon him.”

“So that’s it huh?” Reno asked as he put his cup down on the table. “Genesis just gets a pardon after all the stuff he’s done? What about Yazoo?”

Tense silence fell on the room, with Rude making a point to poke more at his tablet so that he appeared busy. His missing jacket, loose tie, and rolled up sleeves spoke of a level of comfort that likely shouldn’t have been present in this room at the moment. Elena was fully dressed, but her jacket was unzipped, and Reno had neglected to put on a shirt over his wifebeater. 

As the length of silence reached an uncomfortable point, he stood and headed back towards his room, “Sorry, I’m being a butthead. I’m gonna shower and wake myself up.”

“Hey Reno,” Elena called when he was at the threshold. When he turned, she continued, “I was thinking, we have a while until our boss arrives, and we can’t do much until he does so… let’s go get breakfast and go to the beach or something.”

He smiled a little and nodded, “Yeah, let’s do that.”

Of course, he thought about what he had blurted out the entire time he was in the shower and while he was getting dressed. This somehow led to him thinking about their old boss, Veld, and how he had once suggested that Reno take advantage of his health plan to speak to a counselor about the dirty memories he tried to sanitize with the wrong type of alcohol. Reno had shrugged it off then, saying that he just liked to drink. He had promised it wouldn’t affect his work, and it mostly hadn’t. He hadn’t become Tseng’s second in charge by sleeping his way to the top. Oh, there were definitely people in Shinra that had, including a few former Turks who had fucked their way to cushier positions in other departments, but he was not one of them. In his youth, he had landed in some pretty interesting beds, but never the ones that would take him to the top. He was where he was because he was a damn good Turk who knew when to be on his feet instead of on his back. No matter how laid back he seemed, he had a solid reputation for getting the job done. He wanted to get this one done, for Elena, for Tseng, for Cloud, who deserved to raise his family in peace, and for himself. He needed this to be over because every time an incident like this popped up, it left him questioning the company he had so loyally served for so long. Reno didn’t love that feeling. He hated to think that there would come a day when he didn’t have the heart to put on the suit anymore. His coworkers and his president were the only family he had left. Without them, without that suit, who was he?

He got dressed in a black button up with the buttons undone to reveal a camo print tank top over a pair of green boardshorts with white flowers. Not exactly fashionable, but who cared when the goal was to take most of it off to swim anyway? He met Elena and Rude at the inn’s restaurant. Rude was all in white with crisply ironed trousers and shined up shoes, while Elena was wearing a blue one piece with a lighter blue hip wrap patterned with large white flowers and a big straw hat. 

“So, partner,” Reno rose his brow at Rude. “You uh, got a beach wedding you’re getting to later?”

“No,” Rude shook his head and gestured to his clothes. “I have my shorts on under this. I’ll change at the beach.”

“You guys are great,” Elena laughed, making Reno smile a bit. Yeah, it was the small moments like this that made it all worthwhile.

\-----------------------------------

Back at the cabin that afternoon, Yazoo had lost his motivation to make the Hojo look good. Instead, he began to draw another face that was coming to mind. He became so hyper focused that his ears barely registered Genesis returning from the bathroom and asking him a question. He meant to ask what he’d said, but it was as though he couldn’t tear his eyes away from his work. Yazoo was like a man possessed, drawing well into the night. He only stopped when dinner was sat down in front of him. 

“Huh?” He looked up in confusion.

“There you are!” Genesis gave a dramatic sigh with a hand over his heart. “I thought I’d lost you to the muses. Don’t worry, I am used to being ignored by artists. Bahamut itself could blast Weiss dead on, and he would only look up to ask who destroyed his paper.”

“Would he mind?” Yazoo asked, poking at the sketchbook. 

“Probably not,” Genesis shrugged. “There’s another in the couch pillows somewhere, one in the closet, and one under the bed. He did portraits a lot, but he also practiced calligraphy. Said it made him a better swordsman somehow. He was a strange one, if you haven’t noticed.” 

Genesis cleared his throat several times as he began using the tag of a teabag to dunk it in and out of hot water in his mug, earning a concerned look from Yazoo. “Oh, no worries. I have a little throat tickle. It’s odd. I have never had a full on cold. Just the occasional throat irritation. Dr. Hollander -- he was the one responsible for this glorious existence of mine, by the by -- he told me once that it is actually my supposedly superior immune system attacking allergens. Supposedly, some scientists believe that allergies in humans are a sign of a strong immune system, and that is the theory behind my little throat tickle incidents. I believe a chair is a chair and a throat tickle is a nuisance.”

Yazoo considered it for a moment and then shrugged. As long as Genesis wasn’t sick, he was happy. Deciding to move on, he poked at the sketchbook again. “How old is he?”

“Dr. Hollander?” Genesis smirked, teasing him. When the other young man huffed, he chuckled. “I know, I know. Weiss is...hm… he’s young. Not a teenager… I’d say early twenties. He doesn’t know for certain, but he was sure it was somewhere around 23 or 24.”

“Where is he?” Yazoo dared to ask. 

The crimson brows furrowed and the pink lips turned down a bit, “He’s… in a safe place. I haven’t gotten to see him since taking you in.”

“Go,” Yazoo urged. “See him.”

“I should,” Genesis nodded. “It’s a bit of a trek to see him, and so I haven’t gone because I worry about leaving you alone for so long, but you’re doing a lot better. You haven’t had a fever in a while.”

Yazoo shook his head, agreeing that he hadn’t been ill since that day on the beach. He and Genesis had sparred several times since then, and he often practiced in the evenings when the sand was nice and cool. This, he took as a sign that he was physically recovered. 

“Maybe I’ll go in a few days then,” Genesis nodded. “I’ll leave early and return in time for dinner. You know how to make rice and we have fruits and things you can eat. Yes, I think you’ll be fine while I go and visit Weiss.”

Smiling, Yazoo nodded in agreement. He did wonder where it was that Genesis had to go in order to see him, but he decided not to pry. Instead, he turned back to the drawing of Hojo to show Genesis. 

“Look,” he said. 

The redhead did and his eyes widened for a moment. “Well, that is a face I could have gone without ever seeing again. So you were...in Shinra’s labs as well?”

“Mhm,” Yazoo nodded slowly. “Professor Hojo made me...I think.”

“Well,” Genesis sighed. “That may be more literal than you think. You see, he’s Sephiroth’s father.”

Now it was Yazoo’s turn to give a wide-eyed stare. No one had ever told him this! He was sure that as more of his memories returned, this would be even more shocking. He was all but falling out of his chair at the revelation with what little he did remember of the man.

“Is he...mine?” He dared ask.

“I can’t really say for certain, unfortunately,” the redhead shook his head. “But it is probable. Do you know about the Jenova Project?”

Yazoo tried to recall if he’d heard the name, but it seemed he hadn’t. Still, his thoughts were rushing now, and he scribbled the codename JPN03 and showed it to Genesis before pointing to himself. 

“Hojo called you that?” the other guessed correctly, and Yazoo nodded. “Yes, it seems you were definitely a product of Jenova research. Unfortunately, the only answers might be in Midgar, and that is...Midgar is very destroyed at this point. Who knows, there may be something left of the Shinra’s record department, but the building was very much a wreck when…” Genesis was cut off when Yazoo flipped past the Shinra logo he’d drawn to the drawing he’d been working on when dinner was presented. Genesis spoke slowly, “That is… Yazoo…? Did you know a boy named Zack Fair?”

“No,” Yazoo shook his head.

“And you didn’t know Angeal, right?” Genesis continued speaking slowly. Yazoo again shook his head. “How do you know this boy?”

A voice that had been mostly quiet since the incident on the beach was whispering the name to him now over and over again. Having a feeling that it was important, he said this name aloud.

“Cloud.”

“Y-yes, Cloud Strife,” Genesis was turning pale at this point. “I...I only knew of him because of Nibelheim. He was just a grunt then, but Hojo… Sephiroth’s cells…”

“Genesis?” Yazoo was beginning to worry, but the redhead stood and came over to kneel next to him. “Yazoo, the more I get to know you, the deeper the mystery that is you becomes. Do you know where to find Cloud?”

“No,” Yazoo shook his head.

“I do,” Genesis stood quickly. “I’m going to take you there. I’m going to take you to Edge!”  
———-

Tseng arrived the next morning at 6 AM sharp, meeting his three subordinates on a strip of beach about fifteen minutes outside of New Mideel. As expected, the Turk boss was accompanied by a handful of armed grunts. What surprised Reno was that once the area was secured by the armed men, their President stepped off of the still whirring helicopter, the tails of his long white coat blowing in the strong air currents that the machine created. Now that they knew that Rufus was not in any immediate danger, the helicopter was shut off. 

Once the racket was done and their president was in hearing range, Reno immediately asked, “Sir. what brings you here?”

Rufus shrugged as he raised a hand to check that his always perfectly combed and gelled hair was still in place. It was, of course. As he primped, he looked to the inquirer and responded, “Genesis Rhapsodos is the last surviving former member of SOLDIER. I felt that he would have a lot of interesting things to say.”

The President turned to address Tseng, and Reno shot a glance at Rude in time to see the man look away. He didn’t have to see his eyes to read his partner’s expression. They were both thinking the same thing -- there was more to Rufus’ arrival than the Shinra Company head was letting on. All of the Turks were up to speed on the horror that was Deepground, and thus they knew of Genesis’ significance to the program. What they didn’t know was how much or how little Genesis himself knew.

Even before the President’s arrival, the plan had been to walk to the cabin so as not to alarm the occupant (or occupants). The helicopter passing overhead just the other day would have been enough to alert someone as shrewd as Genesis Rhapsodos. The former Soldier First Class had to expect that Daddy Shinra would come knocking sooner or later, but what he likely would not expect was a supposed pardon. This would mean that the swordsman would be on edge, and that made him especially dangerous. After all, Diet Sephiroth would be...Sephiroth with less calories. Reno really lost sight of where he’d been going with that analogy. It was too damn early to be witty. 

This unromantic stroll on the beach had become a little too high in the stakes for thinking too deeply. The monster population had not taken any significant dips since Mako production stopped. Their zoologists were still conducting field studies, but the general consensus even back in the day had been that most of the mutations were here to stay. In some ways, it worked out. Cockatrice eggs were killer in a good bowl of ramen — and there he was getting mentally side tracked again. 

The trouble was that no one was talking, at least not to him. Tseng and Elena appeared to be taking turns telling the president how close they were getting, and the grunts were grunts. They knew better than to goof off when the head of the company was present. Rude seemed to be in his own head, which was typical of Rude. The red head wished they could fall back a bit to talk some, though. Whatever his old partner was thinking had to be good. 

Reno had his way of knowing things, but Rude’s ways were a mystery even to his longtime partner. Reno always wondered if it was the fact that the bald man was so quiet that you could almost forget he was in a room and listening. Maybe this was why Rude always knew things like who was dating or interested in who and who was getting married. These things might seem like useless information to talk about in front of a quiet Turk, but Rude always used this information well. Kidnapping a significant other was a great way to draw someone out of hiding.

They walked through a pass between two large rocky hills, and then the cabin could be seen in the distance. As they approached, Reno found himself wondering who they would kidnap if they wanted to draw out Genesis these days. In the glory days of SOLDIER, there had certainly been rumors. One of his fellow Turks had mused that SOLDIERs had to shower together, so it only made sense they’d get close. Reno had been surprised by the amount of wanting to punch the guy in the face he had been overcome with. Instead of acting on the impulse, he had gone off and thought a little bit more about men in the shower than he would have been willing to admit. 

And now he was thinking that his thoughts had ventured somewhere uncomfortable. The grunts had gone ahead to secure the perimeter around the cabin, and so he decided it was time to stop thinking idle thoughts and focus on keeping his president safe. 

It was obvious that someone lived here and that it was likely more than one person. Near the house, off to the side, a clothesline was stretched between two trees, and several pairs of boxers hung from it along with several pairs of underwear that looked like they were definitely made of silk. He was sure that he wasn’t overthinking this one. Genesis Rhapsodos was definitely a silk or nothing type of guy. As they approached the house, he noted the cabin cruiser out on the dock. Some unpleasant memories threatened to come up at that moment, but he promised he’d entertain them with a bottle of the hard stuff once this was all over.

The cabin on land was so modest that he would find it impossible to believe that Genesis Rhapsodos lived here if it weren’t for the fact that the silk underwear on the line happened to all be in varying shades of red. As a fellow redhead, this was something Reno had never understood about the SOLDIER -- why be obsessed with the same color as the stuff that grew out of their heads? Genesis was obviously a proud redhead, and for what? More sunburn and every other person calling themselves flirting by asking if the carpet matches the drapes? He cringed inwardly and then turned his attention to the front door, where Tseng was waiting for an answer to his knock. 

The group had the president sandwiched between them, with the grunts positioned so that they were not imposing, but they would also have clear shots at a potential threat standing in the doorway if one presented itself. Nothing like that happened. Instead, Tseng ended up knocking several times while calling out in a manner that made him sound like an annoying salesman badgering someone that he knew to be home and hiding. Reno knew that Genesis was not one to hide, and so he stepped forward, clicking his tongue. 

“Geez, just try the doorknob.” Tseng gave him that ‘We’re going to talk later’ look, but he shrugged it off and reached around his boss for the knob in question. It was locked, of course. Thankfully, he always kept a spare key in his pocket. 

“They’re definitely not here, right?” Elena sounded a bit nervous. For a Turk, she still had a ways to go when it came to getting used to the shadier side of the job. Watching Reno pick a lock to get into someone’s home had made her antsy both times she’d been there to witness it.

“All the lights are off,” Rude replied with his usual stoic charm. 

It took Reno about a minute to accomplish his goal. Standing and tucking his kit back into his pocket, he remarked, “Man, I’m gettin’ rusty.” He then led the way into the cabin. 

“Well, someone was here,” Elena remarked as she followed inside and headed over to the screened off sleeping area. “How long do you suppose they’ve been gone?”

Reno shrugged as he followed Rufus and Tseng towards the kitchen. Rude went in the opposite direction towards the bathroom, and the grunts stood near and outside of the door in case of a sudden return. While Rufus and Tseng continued on into the small kitchen, the redhaired Turk stopped near the table, his attention being caught by a black hardcover book bound by spiraled metal painted black. He was very careful to flip through slowly while grasping the very corner of the paper with his fingertips. The artist was very good, he thought. The portraits of Genesis almost looked as though they had been taken with a camera. He lingered on the picture of the beautiful woman, but was distracted by Elena entering the area.

“Boss, Sir, look at this!” the petite blonde had put on a pair of exam gloves, and now she was dangling from her fingertips a single lengthy strand of silver hair. “I found it on the pillows. Yazoo was here.”

At that moment, Rude was coming from the bathroom with a hairbrush filled with more of the silvery hairs to confirm the same thing. He looked slightly disappointed as he turned back to return the grooming item. 

“Do you suppose he’s still recovering?” Rufus asked, looking to Tseng. 

The dark haired man rested his chin on his hands for a moment and then nodded, “It could be. He was shot in the abdomen by one of the security drones, but that would have healed by now if he’s anything like Sephiroth. The Mako poisoning is another story.”

“It doesn’t seem that Genesis took him into town, though,” Elena mused, tapping her foot. “Where could they have gone?”

Reno turned and began flipping through the sketchbook again, cringing as he came across a too realistic likeness of Hojo. When he made it to the last sketch in the book, his eyes widened and picked it up to show the president and Tseng. “I uh… think I know where they went…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whee! I got distracted by Animal Crossing and completely forgot about uploading after I turned off my work computer for the day on Friday. It's late but here it is! I'm editing Chapter 7 now as well.
> 
> 10 more days to FF7R! Yaaaas!


	7. Chapter 7

It was Yazoo’s first plane ride, and he hated it. About an hour into the flight, they hit such violent turbulence that he feared the plane was going to break apart. In an attempt to avoid the violent shifts in air current, the pilot began dropping altitude, which was even more unnerving. Even once the disturbances passed, the first time flyer’s heart still felt as though it was in the pit of his stomach. 

It was far too late to express that he wanted to go home. Gen had worked quickly to make the necessary preparations, and they were on the chartered flight that same evening, the plane being piloted by a local who normally made his living giving island tours in his cessna. While Yazoo was grateful to his friend and caretaker, whose arm he hand clung to with a vice like grip from take off and up until the turbulence had passed, he couldn’t help but be afraid that this was a mistake. He didn’t know why he’d drawn Cloud, and there was a lingering fear that this was not to be a happy reunion. 

Instead of going straight to Edge or Midgar, they landed just outside of the walled off town known as Kalm and entered on foot. Upon arrival, they got checked into a cozy room with two beds at the Kalm inn, giving them an opportunity to get some real sleep. It had been a very long flight, with the plane having to stop several times to refuel and for the pilot to rest. After the second stop, Yazoo had only nodded off here and there. Genesis, on the other hand, had barely made it past the first refuel. Because he had barely slept, Yazoo was a little groggy, but too nervous about going to Edge to lay down, however. Noting his charge’s restlessness, Gen decided they would leave right away. He slipped a pair of dark sunglasses onto Yazoo’s face and helped him hide the long silver hair in the hood of the grey and black striped, long sleeved shirt that he was wearing, and then they headed out again. 

Kalm’s architecture was very different compared to their little cabin on the beach. Yazoo was fascinated by the tall, stone faced houses with their shuttered windows and what looked like a castle tower off in the distance. At the center of town was a statue of a miner with his pickaxe slung over his shoulder. Curious about this, the silver haired young man walked over with Genesis in tow. 

“To remind the townspeople of who they once were, no doubt,” his red haired companion remarked as they stood admiring the structure. “Kalm used to be a mining town, but like so many others, they were sold on Mako. Where this monument is now, there used to be a small reactor.” 

“I think...I remember that,” Yazoo spoke softly. 

It wasn’t a memory of seeing the reactor in person, but of a lesson with one of his tutors. Mako had been the lifeblood of Shinra, so it stood to reason that the child they were hoping to mold into the next Sephiroth would need to be educated about Reactors and their locations. He was remembering being taught about how Kalm’s economy had been based on mining mythril until Shinra had convinced the town to become a Reactor town instead. This boosted the economy ten fold, as it had with others. However, this new, easier source of income lessened the incentive to secure the mines and protect the workers against monsters that began to appear after the Reactor was built. Many people lost their livelihood when the mine was shut down. This wasn’t framed as the tragedy that it actually was, but young Yazoo had recognized it on his own through further reading. The price of mythril had not gone up due to the difficulties in obtaining it, as it would have with stronger and more in demand metals. Because of this, a lot of miners had taken what they had left and moved to the Midgar slums in search of work. 

“Most towns were too scared to say no to Mako,” Gen explained through a sardonic smile. “They saw what happened in Wutai. If Wutai had just said yes, a few of us would not be here.”

“It’s not their fault,” Yazoo spoke slowly. 

“Of course not,” Genesis shook his head. “Not at all. I doubt the world will ever completely know all there is to know about the true horrors of Shinra. All we can do is to make sure that they never achieve such power again.”

Yazoo liked the sound of that, but he did feel a bit of an existential crisis waiting in the wings. If Wutai had said yes, Shinra would not have needed more than one Sephiroth. Thus, they would not have made Yazoo. He would not have to live with this feeling of a hole in his life. He would not know the longing to hold the hand of someone whose face he could not remember. 

Gen wanted to buy some new Materia, and so he led the way to and up a set of stone stairs leading to the upper level of town, where the shops were located. He had planned to go into the Materia shop with his companion, but Yazoo’s attention was drawn by a black puppy. 

“Are you lost?” He asked as he picked up the little one, noting his single white paw. The dog responded by bathing Yazoo’s face with kisses, causing him to smile and cuddle the small animal. 

“Why don’t you stay with your new friend while I get the shopping done,” Gen suggested. 

Yazoo nodded and turned his attention back to the puppy, who had not stopped covering his face with excited licks. In truth, he wanted to take the adorable little guy home, but he was reluctant to ask his caretaker to take on yet another mouth to feed. They were already on an entirely different continent because of Yazoo, and so he felt it was too much to add the responsibility of a dog. But this didn’t stop his heart from feeling a little heavy when he had to put the puppy down once Genesis exited the store. Thankfully, the dog ran off in the opposite direction towards a little boy who had just stepped outside. In the meantime, Yazoo followed Genesis, whose expression had turned worryingly serious. 

“I don’t want you to get scared, but I have to tell you that the Shinra have been searching for you,” Genesis began as they started down the stairs. “I figured that this would be the case. I’ve heard so many helicopters lately...”

Helicopters? The silver haired young man knew what they were, but it occurred to him that he would not know the sound of one, even if it was right outside of his door. He would be sedated beforehand whenever Shinra was going to move him from lab to lab, so he never knew exactly where he was or how he had gotten there. It was a stroke of luck that all three of the Sephiroth siblings had been in the same room that day... 

“Yazoo, listen,” Genesis brought him back to the present by grabbing his wrist and then stopping to kneel in front of him. He removed a mythril bangle from among his pouch of purchases and slipped it onto the other’s arm, under his sleeve. Then he equipped it with a Fire Materia. “I will protect you,” he spoke with emphasis on the second word. “But just in case, do you know how to use this?”

Yazoo nodded and swallowed several times. Gen noticed this nervousness and gently patted his hand before standing. “Don’t worry. They’ll have to go through me. I won’t let anyone hurt you, least of all Shinra. I will not lose another brother to them...”

“Genesis…” Yazoo began as a shudder ran down his spine. His friend was still smiling, but there was a numbing coldness behind those blue eyes. 

“Don’t worry!” the redhead’s tone was as though they were discussing something like a surprise party or a blind date. “Well, I will say this. If it comes down to it, just run. Don’t look back or worry about me. Just get away.”

It felt like he needed to throw up now, and the fact that they hailed a rickety old truck to take them into Edge did not help. The driver had them ride in the bed along with some crates of produce he was taking into the city to sell. This made every bump very noticeable, and then there was the sight of the ground whizzing by. Yazoo felt like his face should be green, and thoughts of having to run away without Genesis didn’t help. In fact, he hated all of this and just wanted to crawl under a bed. True, he would miss a chance to understand his past, but he could at least build a safe future on fishing and helping Genesis.

How could the other be so calm? Gen was acting like he hadn’t just laid out a scenario where Sephiroth’s little brother would have to leave him behind, possibly for dead. In fact, he was treating their journey as if it was some vacation or adventure, going on about how they were making good timing and how he hoped they could find some place good to eat because they had skipped a few meals on the journey here, and he was famished. The redhead couldn’t wait to get to Edge and see the sights. Yazoo secretly hoped the truck would break down or monsters would attack, but there was no such luck.

Compared to the quaint masonry of Kalm, the city of Edge was ugly to Yazoo. Quite a few of the buildings looked like they would fall down if not for steel beams in between structures supporting them, and most of the homes had pipes snaking in and out of them, giving them an appearance of being on life support. Worst of all, there were people everywhere, walking, driving, biking, honking, and yelling at each other. The city was loud, surprisingly large, and confusing. And while Yazoo just wanted to blend in, find Cloud, and then get the hell out of here, Genesis seemed to be having the time of his life. 

The women of the city couldn’t ignore him. Of course, the flamboyant swordsman hadn’t bothered with being discreet at all. Instead, he looked like a male model in black jeans, deep brown ankle boots, and a wine colored sweater over a crisp white shirt. And then of course, there was the earring. Ladies loved the earring, or at least that was what Genesis had told him, and now he believed it because his companion was turning their heads on every street. Naturally, Genesis was eating up all of the attention, even going so far as to flirt with a group of girls that sat near them in a burger place they’d found for lunch. He told them that he was searching for a friend, Cloud Strife, and much to Yazoo’s chagrin, the group of three giggling schoolgirls offered to take them to 7th Heaven Bar, where Cloud apparently lived and worked. If he felt more like himself, Yazoo would have crushed their dreams by asking for an address or directions, stating that they could find it on their own. Instead, he sat there stacking his fries while his companion went on about how he used to be a famous swordsman, but how they likely were too young to remember him. Yazoo noticed that Genesis never gave them his full name. Mr. G is what he called himself. As Yazoo added another fry to his growing tower, he mumbled his complaints about “Mr.G’s” absurdity. 

According to the girls, Cloud ran a delivery service out of the bar, and this was one of the reasons why he was so well known. The other given reasons included because of how handsome he was, how cool his spiky blonde hair looked, and also that he had saved the world, but the latter was said in such a way that it seemed an afterthought to these flirtatious young women. Yazoo had a concerning feeling that he knew exactly who Cloud had saved the world from. With a shudder, he pulled the drawstrings on his hood a little tighter.

There was a monument that loomed over the center of the city, taunting the silver haired little brother with its discomforting familiarity. In fact, the entire city felt as though he had seen it before. Walking through felt as though he was revisiting a dream. The girls were supposed to be directing them. Yet, he found that he knew where to turn, and this left him questioning if anything was real. Perhaps he had never escaped at all, and his broken mind was trying to compensate for the hell it experienced by conjuring up this world and a cure for his loneliness -- a friend who was not quite the big brother he had been reaching out for, but someone who had been close to him.

Feeling unsettled, he moved as close to Genesis as he could and tried his best to feign interest when the red haired swordsman pointed out the billboard for Loveless.

“Oh that old play?” One of the girls, a blonde, waved her hand. “It’s so long and boring.”

Why this was the trigger to get rid of the girls, Yazoo would not ask because that would be looking a gift horse in the mouth. Genesis stopped in his tracks and turned to his new fan club with his most charming smile, “Actually, ladies, we’ll go on from here if you’ll just give us directions. I’m sure that you have somewhere else you’d rather be than hanging out with an old man and his shy little brother.”

They whined and complained, but miraculously, one of them wrote down what the traveling duo needed on a scrap of notebook paper. After dramatic hand kisses and a quote from some poem or another for the ladies, Genesis sent them on their way, and Yazoo took the scrap of paper away to take charge of this situation, having decided that he was done with distractions. He wanted to find Cloud, find out what the man knew about his past, and then go home.

“Are you mad at me?” Gen pouted as he followed the taller young man. “I know that I got a bit off task, but it was nice to be fawned over for a bit. I will do my best to stay focused.”

Yazoo smiled a bit to show that he wasn’t angry, but he also did not relinquish that scrap of paper. Genesis didn’t seem to mind this. Instead, he went on about how he wanted to take Yazoo and Weiss to see Loveless once they were all together. Yazoo didn’t have the heart to tell his friend that he never wanted to see this city again.

7th Heaven Bar was the first bar that Yazoo could remember visiting, yet it too felt familiar. They were greeted by a woman with long dark hair past her waist and warm brown eyes. Her smile melted away several layers of the silver haired young man’s anxiety, though he couldn’t exactly explain why. Something about her just felt comforting and calming, as though she could hug away all of his fear. 

Unfortunately, she had to inform them that Cloud wasn’t there.

“He’s out on a delivery, but he should be back soon if you’d like to sit down and wait.”

Yazoo was tempted to just leave a message, but Genesis immediately pulled out one of the chairs at a table she gestured towards, and so it was decided that they were staying. With a small sigh, Yazoo sat down as well and took in the atmosphere. Everything in this city was metal and concrete, and this was reflected by the walls of the bar. A bit of natural sunlight made it in through the few windows, but the place was mostly lit by warm overhead lights. The walls were covered with pictures, some of which featured the man that they were here for. Yazoo could pick out the tall spikes of blonde hair from miles away. 

When they’d first arrived, a little girl with long auburn hair pulled back into a braid with a pink ribbon had been sweeping the floor, but now she stood with a brunette boy about her age, and both were staring at them from over near the bar counter. Meanwhile, a slightly older looking brown haired girl in a pink sweater was flipping through a book while sipping tea in a nearby booth.

“Can I get the two of you anything?” their host asked the arrivers. “I have almost a full pot of hot tea, if you’d like.”

Aside from her charming smile, Yazoo was now noticing that she was quite endowed in the chest area. Of course, he’d seen breasts before. Some of the people who had worked with Hojo had them, but none were so noticeable. She was wearing a white t-shirt with the bar logo on the chest, and that thing was noticeably stretched out. Once he realized that he had been staring in the logo’s general direction for too long, he looked away and blushed furiously. 

“We’ll take tea, thanks,” Genesis answered with the saccharine tone he’d used on the girls. “And if you have any crackers for my little brother? I’m concerned because he hasn’t eaten in a day. Yet, he only played with his lunch.”

“Are you not feeling well?” the woman immediately turned her attention to Yazoo, making him want to sink into the floor under the table. Instead of disappearing like he wished, he shook his head and then quickly nodded, attempting to communicate that he felt fine. She smiled again, “Well, let me know if you’d like soup or something else to eat, alright? My name is Tifa, by the way.”

Tifa went off to fetch their tea, and Yazoo noticed that she was stopped by the sweeping girl, who began to speak to her in a hushed voice. In the meantime, that little boy kept staring at him, and this contributed to Yazoo feeling extremely restless. 

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” Genesis asked, placing a hand against Yazoo’s forehead to check for the fever that had come and gone throughout their time together.

“I’m tired,” Yazoo spoke quietly.

“You should be resting,” the redhead frowned. “After we meet with Cloud, I’ll take you back to the inn and put you to bed.”

Bed sounded like a great idea. He could hide and feel safe under the warm blankets -- safe from the eyes of a child that he could probably break with one kick. Tifa brought them cups of tea along with the pot, honey and lemons, and a plate of crackers, which she sat down in front of Yazoo. Then she went on to continue talking to the little girl. 

Yazoo wasn’t any part of hungry, but he decided to try nibbling at the crackers if only to keep up his strength and to avoid worrying Genesis any further. The tea went down a little easier, especially once he’d added a bit of the honey and lemon. While they were partaking the door to the bar opened and the sound of heavy boots against the wooden floor registered to Yazoo’s ears as a boyish voice with just a hint of bass called out, “Hey, I’m home!”

“Cloud!” the two children shouted in unison as they ran towards the door and crashed against either side of the man’s body. The girl at the table merely smiled, while Tifa quickly joined the kids and kissed the man’s cheek.

“How was it?” she asked.

“Well the tip was nice,” Cloud smiled. “But the ride was long, even for Fenrir. I need something to eat and a hot bath.”

“I’ll make you something,” Tifa rushed off, seeming to forget the guests. In the meantime, Cloud walked with the kids past their table, nodding to the girl with the book, who smiled and nodded back. A few seconds later, the long haired bar host seemed to remember something, and she rushed back. “Oh, Cloud. These two are here for you.”

Now Cloud took note of them, and his smile faded as his wide blue eyes took in the sight of the red haired man who was casually sipping tea. “Wait a minute...Are you...Genesis Rhapsodos?”

Genesis stood, and Yazoo did the same, watching as his companion began to smile broadly. “Finally, someone recognizes me! I can’t tell you what is worse. — to be hated or to be forgotten. Either way, it is interesting to see you again, Cloud Strife! I was… saddened to learn of the passing of Zack Fair.”

“I...yes… Zack p-” Cloud began and then glanced Yazoo’s way, taking him in for a moment before returning his attention to Genesis. “I’m sorry. I just…why are you here? I don’t mean to be rude, but you are supposedly dead…”

“Supposedly,” Genesis waved his hand. “But surely you know by now how it is with Shinra. Their definition of dead is often quite different from what the rest of the world defines it as, though I suppose for a time I was dead on the inside. The loss of my dear Sephiroth weighed heavily on me. I will...never forgive myself for Nibelheim…”

That was clearly the wrong thing to say, as Cloud’s eyes narrowed at the man before him and he asked again in a lower tone, “What do you want?”

“I’m here for my little brother,” Genesis turned and gestured to Yazoo, who was now frozen from the spine down into the spot where he stood. “Well, he is actually Sephiroth’s little brother. I’ve merely adopted him, you could say.”

It was as though someone had sucked all of the heat out of the room in an instant. Tifa came closer and the kids began to cling to Cloud’s legs. The blonde himself looked at Yazoo with narrowed eyes and demanded to know. “Who are you? Why are you hiding your face?”

There was only one response to that. Yazoo took off his sunglasses first and then pulled back the hood to free the long strands of silver. The kids gripped Cloud’s pants harder, both glaring at him, but Tifa stepped in and pulled them away. Meanwhile, Cloud’s tone was icy as he spoke his name. 

“So...you do know me?” Yazoo asked carefully. 

“How could I forget?” the angry man replied. “What do you think you’re doing here? Where are the other two? What is your plan?”

The questions were like bullets from a machine gun in the rapid way that they were fired. Yazoo’s head began to swim and then everything went black. Then he began to see things. First was Cloud’s face and a pair of dark glasses being shot off of them, leaving a bleeding scar. The visions came rapidly after that, and most of them involved Cloud. 

“But I never did that,” he spoke softly to his visions. “Did I? Not me…”

He saw the face of nightmares then. The piercing green eyes and the smile that betrayed madness. The long silver hair flowing in the wind, and then the flames and screams of terror and agony...

“Not me...You! YOU!” he was screaming this now. His vision blurred and then he saw the ceiling above him and Genesis’ worried face. He tried to say that everything was alright, but the ceiling became blurry again and then everything was black.  
\-----------------------------------

President Rufus’ secretary was the type of girl that inspired songs with titles like Legs for Days. She was the ideal supermodel height, with legs that pencil skirts are made for. Her golden blonde hair always had salon sheen and her nails were always perfectly manicured and brilliantly lacquered. Today they were a dark blue to compliment the navy color of her skirt suit. Under the jacket, she wore a white shirt and a blue ribbon tie. Her hair was pulled up into a bun that was only slightly messy in a way that spoke of a long day. As soon as they spotted the president, her water blue eyes filled with relief. 

“Welcome back, sir,” she spoke as she stood for the company head as he approached her desk, which was situated just outside of the office that he barely used. “I have Mr. Cloud Strife on Line 2 for you. I tried to take a message, but he refuses to leave one, and he keeps calling back.”

Rufus ran a hand over his face and then pinched the bridge of his nose as he continued into his office. Speaking over his shoulder, he informed the Turks, “I’ll deal with this.” 

Of course, it was no surprise that this was happening. If anything, it was more interesting that the blonde hero of the world hadn’t shown up to yell at the president in person. Sauntering over to the secretary’s desk, Reno perched on the side and began playing with a spade shaped leaf on her potted plant. 

“Wonder what that could be about,” he spoke in a tone so even that only those privy to the situation would recognize the sarcasm. Tseng lowered his head and Elena sighed as she took a seat on the couch. Rude moved towards the window and began staring out, leaving the redheaded Turk to his conversation with the president's administrative assistant. 

The young woman sighed as she gracefully lowered herself into her chair. With another huff, she began straightening things on her desk while addressing the young man in her space, “He called over and over again, you know? He didn’t sound angry or like he was going to yell, at least not at me, but I bet he’s letting President Rufus have it.”

“Oh, I’m sure he is,” Reno smirked as he leaned in a little closer. “But you look like you could use a drink. Maybe you wanna go get one later tonight? I’ll go with in case that angry Cloud guy shows up.”

“That doesn’t sound terrible,” she paused in reorganizing her desk to smile at him. 

“So should I…”

He would never finish that sentence, as the door to the president’s office opened and the blonde head peeked out. “You four, come in.”

Due to the circumstances, Reno shifted back into business mode, sliding down from the desk and waving as he followed Rude into the office. Elena and Tseng brought up the rear, with the latter shutting the door before taking a seat in front of the president’s desk. Reno and Rude chose to stand nearby while Elena took the other seat. 

Rufus Shinra’s office was decorated in the opulent manner befitting a Shinra President, with all of the fabrics in shades of red and gold. His mahogany executive desk was situated at the far end of the room in front of a large bay window that overlooked the forested mountains. A seating area had been arranged in the center of the room with two plush couches facing each other and headed by a chair with armrests made of the same polished mahogany as the president’s desk. However, that area was mostly for showing off when he met with people such as the head of the World Regenesis Organization, who would doubtlessly be brought up in this meeting. The chairs situated in front of the desk were not nearly as comfortable as the ones in the sitting area for a reason — meetings at the desk were always to the point. 

“Genesis and Yazoo are at the 7th Heaven Bar in Edge,” the president addressed them once everyone was situated. “The four of you will go without me for obvious reasons. Tseng, I will trust dealing with Genesis Rhapsodos to you. Have an armed escort on standby, but do this as quietly as possible. I want Yazoo in our hands before Reeve gets involved.”

The President nodded to the group to dismiss them and then turned his back to stare out at the scenery. As they headed out, Reno felt anxiousness rising from the pit of his stomach. This feeling intensified as he settled in the pilot’s seat of the helicopter that would be carrying them to Edge, and he acknowledged that he was nervous. To put it bluntly, Yazoo had cleaned the street with him when they had engaged in hand to hand combat, and then he had survived a bomb. Sure, it was likely defective, being something that Rude had thrown together with duct tape and leftover helicopter parts, but it had been one hell of an explosion to walk away from. Rude and Reno had to be carried away from that one, but Yazoo and his brother Loz had gone on to relentlessly pursue Cloud. Was this resilience or the power of Sephiroth’s will? Whatever the situation, Reno was fully aware that apprehending Yazoo was not going to be easy if he already recovered from Mako sickness and his injuries. Whatever way this ended up going, it was for certain that things would never be the same. 

\-----------------------------

I’m sorry…

But…. why? Who are you…?

As he opened his eyes, the first thing that Yazoo noticed was that there was moisture on his face. Someone, likely Genesis, had carried him into this room with exposed pipes snaking out of the ceiling and put him in a strange, yet comfortable bed, but they hadn’t bothered to cover him up with the thick woolen blanket. Instead, they had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and the legs of his jeans. He realized that they had also placed a damp towel on his forehead when it fell to the floor as he turned onto his side. Picking it up with a sigh, he turned onto his back again and placed the cloth back into place. Disappointment rose within him as he closed his eyes and took another long breath. Genesis was probably somewhere blaming himself when it was no one’s fault that Yazoo’s health was spotty. Lifting a hand, the ill young man touched his forehead just under the towel and was unsurprised to feel warmth. Another fever then. It was probably best to stay in bed, but he knew that he would not rest easy in this setting, especially not while knowing that Shinra was looking for him and that Cloud apparently was an enemy. 

He gathered his will together and then opened his eyes, meaning to sit up. However, he was startled by a face hovering over his. It was the girl from the bar — the long haired brunette who had been sweeping when the unwelcome duo had come in. She was just a child, but the glare that she gave him with her brown eyes as he sat up sent chills down his spine. This chill was only a momentary concern, as dizziness hit him hard enough to make him dip forward. Closing his eyes, he placed a hand against his forehead and began taking deep breaths. At the very least, he could report that he was not nauseas, but he was certainly hungry enough to regret not eating his burger or more of those crackers. Things had turned out just as he feared they would — Cloud hated him. Uncertainty and anxiety had robbed him of a good meal. 

In his musing, Yazoo had all but forgotten the girl, but when he opened his eyes again, she was still there and glaring holes into his face. 

“You’re supposed to be lying down because of your fever,” she grumbled at him. She then huffed and folded her arms, raising her voice a bit. “I think you deserve it! You deserve it for what you did to Cloud and Denzel and all the other kids!”

Denzel? Other kids? Yazoo was not being bombarded by visions the way he had been earlier, and so he was completely unsure of what this child was talking about. Her sudden fit did scratch at his memories, though. There was someone he knew to be moody just like this…

“Why did you have to come back?!” She was going on, her voice having risen in volume yet again. “Cloud and Tifa deserve to rest! They shouldn’t have to fight again! Zephyr needs them!”

Zephyr? This girl seemed to have a never ending list of grievances involving people he didn’t know. Cloud and Tifa were at least familiar names, but he didn’t know what to say about any of this. Lowering his head, he quietly offered the only two words that came to mind, “I’m sorry.”

These words were truly genuine. Yazoo didn’t know why he would attack or fight with Cloud, or at least he was telling himself he didn’t. For certain, if he really applied himself to thinking about it, he would come up with a one word answer to his own questions. The scene of the town in flames played back in his mind, followed by an echo of Gen’s blaming himself for what had happened in Nibelheim, and this brought up questions that would need more than a few words to answer. 

Speaking of, where was Genesis? Knowing that Shinra was searching for him made Yazoo more than a bit nervous, and so he slowly stood, only to sway on his feet. He wouldn’t say that this trip was a mistake because he had learned a few things, but he mostly wished they hadn’t come, as the few answers he had gotten brought up more questions that he feared the answers to. 

“You need to lie down!” Oh, the little girl. He kept forgetting her, and now he felt guilty for it. As far as he knew, he didn’t really have anything against children. This one had been rather antagonizing, but he forgave her for it because he had apparently done wrong by her family or friends or whoever. And maybe she didn’t really hate him that much since, to his surprise, she took his hand and led him back to bed. “You’re not as hot as you were, but earlier, you were really hot. You’re… a bad guy, but I didn’t really mean it when I said you deserve to be sick. I mean… I hope you feel better.”

“Thank you… I think,” he replied skeptically as he sat on the bed and laid back. Honestly, this felt much better than standing, but he promised himself that if Genesis didn’t come back for him soon, he would go and find his companion on his own.

Once he was settled, the young girl sat on the bed next to him and gave him a concerned look, “What’s wrong? Why are you sick?”

Yazoo could only shrug in response, as he still didn’t understand what was going on. Perhaps mentioning his visions would be a bit too much for a child. She already had enough to hold against him without his words being the cause of nightmares. 

“Yazoo?” she called for his attention, and once she had it, she asked, “Why is it just you with that man? Where’s Kadaj and Loz?”

Hearing those names was like a trigger going off in his head. It was as though his brain was now bleeding memories, flooding him with recollections of two silver haired children -- tiny Kadaj and always too big for his age Loz. He remembered playing with them and trying to comfort them and dry their tears when he could barely keep from crying himself. He also remembered screaming their names while being pulled away from them.

“You’re crying,” the girl spoke softly. She touched her hand timidly to his and pleaded. “Don’t cry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied in an equally soft tone as he used the back of his free hand to wipe his eyes. He then added, “I think I deserve it to be made to cry…”

The young girl bit her lip, possibly considering another apology, but before she could say anything more, Genesis entered the room. “Well, I’m glad that you’re awake. We’ll be going now, Yazoo.”

The redhead left no time for questions, instead turning on his heel and striding out of the room. Not wanting to be left behind, Yazoo stood quickly and pulled his hair up. Ignoring the feeling of vertigo, he rushed after Genesis while twisting the length of silver strands into a knot on the top of his head and then covering it with the hood of his shirt. A short, dimly lit hallway led to a small staircase. After going down this and turning to the right, he was back in the bar area. Genesis was waiting for him here, arms folded and a sardonic smile on his face. Seeing Yazoo, he remarked, “There you are. Cloud doesn’t wish to help you at all, but he’s at least agreed not to try to kill you. We’ll go back to the inn so that you can rest.”

“Wait,” Tifa called as she rushed over from behind the bar counter. “We should talk more now that Yazoo’s awake.” Approaching the spiky haired blonde, she grabbed his arm and looked to him with pleading eyes. “Cloud, you said it yourself that something is off. If he’s just a remnant, he shouldn’t be able to get sick.”

Just a remnant. Is that what he was then? Some belonging of Sephiroth’s that was left behind? A puppet, maybe? He was here in this bar because something or someone had compelled him to draw Cloud’s face, after all. Could it even be said that he was responsible for any action he had taken so far? Were these memories and these feelings his own? Was this life his?

“And what happens when he recovers?” Cloud argued with the long haired woman. “What happens when he’s well enough to turn into Sephiroth? He’s…”

That comparison again. Even if it was true that he was going to turn into the nightmare, he still felt sudden anger, and before he could stop himself, he was interjecting. “I am NOT Sephiroth!” The volume of his voice surprised even himself. Taking a step back so that he was a bit behind Genesis, he continued in a lower tone. “I don’t want to be him. I just… want to go home.”

Don’t cry, Yazoo. 

Why did it feel like the water works were about to turn on? Perhaps because he was just so exhausted and because it was the truth. He wanted more than anything to be back at the beach, where people didn’t glare at him. Cloud was glaring. The brunette boy was peeking around the corner and glaring. The girl upstairs had been glaring a lot. Only Tifa and the girl who had been reading in the booth earlier had spared him their ire, but he was sure that if the latter girl was still around, she’d be glaring too. No one wanted him here, and so he was perplexed when Genesis put an arm around him to stop him from fleeing the scene.

“Cloud, please forgive me for being dramatic,” the redhead swordsman began. “I understand why you, who gave so much to protect this world, would be wary of us. All I can ask is that you will trust me. I know that you know my reputation -- my story. I will not insult you by claiming innocence. All I can say is that we all wanted to be heroes. Shinra sold that dream to us all with a picture of Sephiroth on the cover. I saw myself as his equal, and I became so blinded by ambition to have others see me this way. My lack of self awareness did not allow me to notice the moment when I had made the choice that led me to becoming the villain. I don’t want to be the villain, Cloud. I never wanted to be that. In the end, I just wanted to live. More than anything, I was...afraid to die.”

Yazoo looked to Genesis with wide eyes and then turned his gaze to Cloud. The blonde’s expression was not hostile, but he didn’t look ready to welcome the pair with open arms, either. Instead, his conflict was all over his face, and it wasn’t eased when Tifa put an arm around him. 

“I realized something, Cloud,” Genesis went on after the silence lingered for more than a few moments. “I realized that all it takes is one bad decision. I take responsibility for that choice. What’s more, I want to atone for that choice by protecting this world from something that I feel to be coming...”

The air felt incredibly tense, and Yazoo didn’t realize he had been holding his breath until Genesis nudged him along. He thought that Cloud would stop them or at least ask about that last ominous sentence, but they made it safely to the door, and then it was Genesis to turn and address the blonde again, “We’ll be at the inn in Kalm until noon tomorrow. That should give Yazoo time to rest. He needs it.”

While he felt it was a bit melodramatic of Genesis, he couldn’t deny that it was true. His sleep on the plane had been fitful, and they had been in the air during the time he was normally in bed for the night. Early to sleep and early to rise seemed to be the way of his internal clock, but now it was thrown off, and his body was telling him that the small amount of time he had been off his feet after fainting was not enough. Because they were leaving without incident of bloodshed, his body was now releasing a lot of tension that it had held. Now, he just wanted to crawl into bed at the inn and rest up for what he was sure would be a sleepless flight home. 

But he couldn’t leave without saying one thing that he meant from the bottom of his heart. Turning back, he looked to the blonde man, whose family had gathered under his protective arms. Yazoo spoke quietly, “Cloud, I’m sorry…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to update this weekend so double upload today!


	8. Chapter 8

“You missed them.”

Cloud was not shocked when the Turks showed up at 7th Heaven bar looking worse for the wear, but he was momentarily surprised that all of the main four were present. As flashes of the Geostigma days played out in his mind, he considered the fact that Kadaj’s gang had put Shinra’s suits through the wringer. It then made sense that they would stick together for this little visit. 

It was getting on into the early evening, and Tifa was in the kitchen getting ready for the evening crowd. Shelke, who had decided to stay with them while she played catch up ball with her education, was also Tifa’s right hand in the kitchen. Business had picked up with more people moving out this way to get jobs at the newly formed Shinra Corporation. The grunts that he knew would be waiting outside were part of this new wave of Shinra hires, of course. People never seem to learn — the blonde hero thought this to himself as he crossed his arms and gave the motley crew standing awkwardly at the threshold a once over. The biggest problem was that Shinra still had enough money to talk, and talk they did. The promises of building a better, freer world sounded good to people who needed money to rebuild their lives. Rufus’ charm was just enough to draw in people from all over the world, and soon enough, the unsettling quiet that had invaded Edge after Deepground had done their worst had been replaced with the sounds of building and growing. Cloud couldn’t hate it too much because he and Tifa had mouths to feed, but he was wary — always watching for the moment when Rufus and the gang would get up to shenanigans. This seemed to be that moment. 

“What are you going to do with him?” 

What have you done already?

Perhaps he was naive to care, but the mercenary turned delivery boy would not easily forget how he had held in his arms a broken and discarded Kadaj. Instinct had caused him to reach out and catch the falling child, just as he had reached out to catch the same child’s older brother when he had fainted earlier. He shouldn’t care. He had tried his best not to, but his heart would not let him forget that they had called him brother. 

After losing his mother, (and maybe even before, honestly), he had thought of family as something that would be nice to have. It was a beautiful item on display through a bedroom window instead of in a fancy shop with prices he couldn’t afford. He couldn’t see himself having a family of his own, at least not back then, but he had been blessed with a family that he had found a bit by accident and then helped it to grow. He had fled it once for fear that he could not protect his precious family. He had feared that he would lose them the way he had lost his mom or that he would fail them the way that he had failed Her. Now he stood here in front of loyal employees to the company who had been largely responsible for the despair and loss in his life asking about a person who had been a threat to his family. How many strange twists and turns would his life continue to take whenever it started to feel normal?

“We can’t tell you that.” A predictable answer from Tseng, who would always do his best to at least appear calm and collected.

In contrast, Elena’s face betrayed her feelings when she asked, “Did they tell you where they were going?” 

Cloud coldly replied, “I can’t tell you that”, and Elena looked like she was going to swing at him. Tseng had a knack for reading her, and so he stepped forward and in front of his partner. 

“Cloud, are you helping that guy?!” This was Reno, the one subordinate that Tseng had a harder time keeping reigned in. His fiery brows knit together and he shook his head. “What’s up with you? I know you don’t wanna work with Shinra, but…”

“Reno,” Tseng silenced him with a firm tone. However, the confused look in the boss’ eyes betrayed the fact that he too wanted to know the answer. The blonde decided to indulge them. 

“He asked me for help,” the answer was simple even though this situation and his feelings about it were far from it. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” the raven haired Turk spoke as he turned and led his people out. Cloud hoped the same. 

Once he was certain that they were gone, he turned and headed upstairs, feeling that he needed to consult with a special someone before he fully acknowledged his decision. 

With the growth of their family, their apartment had also needed to grow. Marlene and Shelke were now rooming together while a new small room had been added on for Denzel. That was the room that they had put Yazoo in earlier, much to the owner’s chagrin. Now the young boy and Marlene were in her room discussing the situation. Cloud could hear their hushed whispers in the hall. Briefly, he considered going in to talk to them, but decided against it almost in the same instance. They would have questions for him, but he was not ready to answer them yet.

He and Tifa were now sharing a room — that had started a bit before their wedding. A short while later, a third person had come along to share their space. Cloud wanted to share with this person for as long as he could. 

When the blonde entered the room, he noted that he was already being watched by a pair of wide eyes that peered over the wooden railing of a crib near the couple’s broken down bed. Going over, he tussled the soft tufts of sandy brown hair and then lifted the baby out. A tiny fist gripped his shirt as Zephyr Strife smiled a toothless smile at his father. 

“Hey you,” Cloud spoke fondly to his son. “Did Marlene and Denzel forget you?”

Usually they played here and kept the baby company whenever he was awake and his parents were busy, but it seemed that the commotion of the day had them preoccupied. Cloud would forgive them for this, especially because he knew that if Zephyr cried, they would come running to take care of him. The new addition to their family was very much doted on in that way. 

Going over to the bed, Cloud lowered himself carefully and sat the baby on his lap. A father is something he had never thought he could be, but with this little one in his arms, he couldn’t think of anything that he wanted to be more. Back when Tifa had told him that she was pregnant, his heart had come up in his throat, not because he was afraid he would be bad in the role. Denzel and Marlene were practically their children by then, after all. What worried Cloud most was not knowing what he would pass on to his unborn child. How much of what Hojo had done to him would be hereditary? When you’ve had someone else’s cells injected into your body, would you pass on a bit of that person to your babies? 

They hadn’t been careful that first time on the Highwind, but they had also not been 100% sure that they would come back from the Northern Crater with their lives. Living for the moment, the possibility of creating a new life had been the last thing on their minds. A lot of changes had taken place since then. Their relationship had gone on the ice, only to thaw and then heat up as Cloud got used to the idea of living for himself instead of with guilt and a feeling that he deserved to be punished for the lives that had been lost. Zephyr had been conceived during that transformation. Learning that he was going to be a father had been the push that Cloud had needed to let go of his fear. He had been told once that he was just a puppet with Sephiroth pulling the strings, but he had proven that wrong by taking back the reins. If Cloud has not passed along that sort of strength to their child, surely Tifa had. 

And so this little one had come into the world and brought extra joy with him. His parents had only held their breath for a moment when they saw that his eyes were green, but then they had decided that they did not care. Their child would be surrounded by what Sephiroth had lacked — love. And as if to reward their resolve, as their baby got older, his green eyes darkened more and more into the hazel color that they were now. 

They were the third pair of eyes he had fallen in love with. The first were Tifa’s and the second…

It still hurt to think about Her. The pain was finally starting to lessen, especially now that he knew that she had never blamed him for her death. However, a part of him would always ache a bit like arthritic joints on rainy days. Aerith would have been so happy to hear of Tifa’s pregnancy, and she would not have let Cloud doubt that they would have anything but a beautiful baby. She was always with them in her own way, and so he was sure that she would watch over Zephyr as she had with all of their family. 

But what would she say about Yazoo? 

As if to distract his father from thinking, the baby squealed and then squirmed in Cloud’s arms. A smile returned to the blonde man’s face as the child maneuvered himself into a standing position and then began to bounce while supported by his father’s hands. 

“Do you want to play with your toy?” Cloud asked with fondness in his tone. Standing, he carried the baby with him in one arm and sat him on the floor near the entrance to the room. He then suspended a device from the doorway that the baby was put into. This allowed him to bounce and jump to his little heart’s content. 

Cloud’s mind still was not made up, but he decided that he would get the older kids to keep Zephyr company. However, before he could step out of the room, Tifa appeared and giggled at their happy son. 

“He’s always trying to work out his legs,” she spoke fondly of the baby. “You’ll be able to jump even higher than your dad someday, Zephyr!”

“He must get that from you, honestly. I still hate leg day,” he winked at his wife, making her giggle. Her laugh made him smile, even as he spoke a bit seriously to her. “Hey, listen. I...I’m just going to go to that inn in Kalm and make sure everything is ok, ok?”

Tifa had started to lean over and make faces at the baby, but she stood up straight to study her husband’s face. “Did you change your mind?”

“I don’t know,” Cloud sighed. “I don’t think it was ever made up, if I’m being honest. Mostly, I’m thinking about him.”

Tifa noted that the blonde had gestured with his head towards the baby. She looked at him too, smiling as the littlest Strife cooed and chewed on his fingers. Then she turned back to her husband. 

“You’re thinking about Zephyr?”

“Always,” with a smile, he went on. “I got so angry because I want him to not have parents that have to constantly run off and fight, but maybe that’s just the type of parents we’ll have to be. I just hate it. I don’t want to be like my father, you know. I want to always be there.” 

“You know you’re different right?” Joining him on that side of the door, she put her arms around his waist, and he responded by pulling her closer. Without missing a beat, she continued, “You always try so hard, Cloud. Sometimes, you need a little push to stop you from giving up, but it’s always you who gives it the first shot.”

“I want to take a shot at something else,” he responded quietly. “If Yazoo can be dealt with peacefully…”

“I think so,” she assured him. “I can’t say that I know what he’s supposed to be like. I only met Loz. That was...like fighting a giant manchild.”

“Yeah,” Cloud spoke with slight amusement. “I know what you mean.”

“I think that if he came here the way he did, he really needs help,” Tifa continued. “Yazoo, I mean. And Genesis seemed really sincere. I can tell he’s worried about Yazoo more than anything.”

“Yeah…” Cloud’s eyes narrowed a bit as his agreement trailed off. At length, he gave his wife a kiss on the cheek and then stepped towards the door while checking his phone. Turning back to her, he nodded firmly. “I’m going to try getting to the bottom of this. Are you guys gonna be ok if I’m out for a while?” 

“We’ll be fine,” Tifa assured him. “But I better get back down there. I’ll ask Marlene and Denzel to come sit with Zephyr.”

“Thanks,” Cloud smiled and then turned to head out.

On his way, he pulled up a number that he felt he hadn’t called in ages. It rang several times, so he thought he would have to try again once he was on the road. Just as he was about to hang up, the familiar voice came on. 

“It’s been a while,” he said to this person. “I was wondering if you guys could help me out with something.”  
——-

When they arrived at the inn, Yazoo turned on the TV, crawled into the center of the bed, and almost immediately began to drift off while staring at the moving pictures on screen. He fell in deep enough to dream of being back home on the beach. However, the sound of a door opening in the real world caused him to snap to awareness. Sitting up, his eyes immediately went to the entrance of the room, where he found Genesis looking surprised. 

“Where are you going?” Yazoo asked the man whose hand was still gripping the brass door handle. 

“Just to the store. I thought I’d get some scissors and we could cut your hair once you woke up.”

“Do you want me to cut my hair?” Yazoo sat up and turned his body towards his companion.

Genesis shook his head as he shut the door and came over to sit next to Yazoo. “I think your hair is beautiful, but I know you’ve had a hard time.” 

A hard time was an understatement. All the same, he nodded and Genesis continued with a smile, “Plus whenever you make me brush it, it kills my poor arms. Some things are a challenge even for advanced humans, such as myself.”

The silver haired young man smiled a bit as he raked some of his hair over his shoulder and watched it fall towards his lap. It was a lot of hair, and now that he could remember cutting a fair amount of it off in his childhood, he was fine with getting rid of some of it in the present. 

“Yazoo, I’m sorry about earlier,” this statement came out of the blue and interrupted further musing of shorter hair. Yazoo turned to Gen to find him looking sheepish. The elder’s fingers worried themselves as he continued, “I...well, when I was actually in SOLDIER, I didn’t engage much with people, mostly because I believed that I deserved to be admired and loved without giving anything in return. My experiences have humbled me, but still I find that I want to be fawned over. Pathetic, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Yazoo spoke bluntly. 

The red haired swordsman winced, “I...deserve it.”

“They were...annoying,” the other continued in earnest. “How could you like that?”

“How familiar,” Genesis’ smile was sad, and Yazoo knew immediately who the swordsman was thinking of. But rather than speaking of the devil, Genesis continued explaining himself, “I understand that this is my problem. Some things are hard to change. I haven’t grown out of my wish to become a beloved hero. At least now, I understand that some things are more important, and so I apologize for how I behaved earlier.”

Yazoo smiled and nodded before asking, “Why don’t you become an actor?”

“Me?” Genesis seemed surprised until he noted his companion’s nod. “You think so?” Yazoo nodded again, prompting the redhead to consider it with a hand on his chin. “I don’t know that I would be very good. It is one thing to recite Loveless or The Sorceress’ Knight over and over again, but to go on stage and truly become a character for the eyes of an audience…”

Genesis could actually picture it — Yazoo could tell by the faint hint of color that bloomed in the ex SOLDIER’s cheeks. Nothing was wrong with that, in the so-called remnant’s opinion. He thought it good to have a dream that could take one out of Sephiroth’s overwhelming shadow. Once, he had even had one of his own — a wish that was born on one of the cold lonely nights spent curled up in a ball under a drab blanket that scratched his skin when he tried to pull it around himself for warmth. 

What was it…?

“I’m going to go get those scissors,” Genesis interrupted Yazoo’s thoughts. The slightly shorter man was standing now, and he started towards the door. “I’m going to get something for you to eat too. The pub does an amazing bratwurst. Be right back!”

“I’ll hang out here,” Yazoo’s response made the red haired man laugh as he exited their room. It wasn’t that funny in his opinion, but he was sure that Genesis was just happy to hear his voice. Yazoo was equally happy, and he was starting to feel more confident in his ability to communicate. As he laid down in the center of the bed with his feet pointed towards the headboard so that he could face the TV, he wondered if it was conceited to like the sound of his own voice. He was not the type to talk just to hear himself, but now that he was speaking more, he was coming to appreciate the quiet richness of his voice. 

“But can you sing?” A quiet voice in his head asked as he drifted off into the state that is between wakefulness and dreams. What an absurd question. 

“I don’t know,” he answered all the same. “I don’t know any songs.”

“Hm, you should learn some.”

“Maybe, but...who are you? I’ve heard you before…”

“You have, but it doesn’t matter right now. I need you to wake up.”

“Why?”

“Because it is not yet time for slumber. We still have much work to do, my brother…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second update that I promised! And I'm super excited because we're getting to one of my favorite parts. Also tomorrow is FF7R day for me. Whoooo!


	9. Chapter 9

Weiss had called him brother the first time that they had met all those years ago, when the wound of Sephiroth’s passing was still relatively fresh. Even though Genesis had rejected Deepground’s cause and chosen instead to seal himself away until the goddess awakened him, when the so called “Pure White Emperor” had opened his eyes to find who had been the one to carry him away from where he had been left to die, he had smiled weakly and referred to the former SOLDIER this way again. 

Brother…

Genesis had planned to make his base in what was left of Banora, but feeling the shivering body in his arms pressing against him for warmth, he decided that it was best to seek shelter where they were — on the shores of the island that had become New Mideel. They weren’t far from the ruins of his home town, but he had reason to believe that Weiss wouldn’t make it.

“Brother…. it’s so cold,” the boy in his arms had spoken softly as he pressed his face into Genesis’ chest. “I want...I want to go too...back to the planet…”

Genesis had taken a knee and used one arm to support the young man’s upper body so that he could gently touch a face that had gone as white as the unruly hair on the boy’s head, and it was just in time. Weiss’ lids began to flutter, signaling that he was slipping away, but the gesture was just enough to bring him around again. 

“Not yet,” Genesis spoke softly to him as he looked into sapphire blue eyes with a ring of yellow around the pupils. They reminded him a bit too much of someone, even though the coloring of them was like none he had ever seen. He shook his head as he kept this captivating gaze. “Remember what I said. We have work to do.”

“I want to go with Nero…” the broken child in his arms said this and then closed his eyes as tears ran from them. 

It wouldn’t be the last time Weiss cried for Nero. 

Like a SOLDIER, his body healed fast, but it had taken so much damage and been put under such strain that Genesis didn’t think even Sephiroth could survive. Weiss mostly slept for days on end, but whenever he was awake, Genesis would force feed him fish broth and give him warm baths to help with the shivering. 

A master level Fire materia that the redhead had stashed away in a hiding spot in his home town was retrieved and sold for Gil to pay the owner of the beach cottage off. What was left had been spent on clothes and blankets — anything he could use to help warm the poor boy. When all of that failed, he offered his own body, which Weiss would cling to, sometimes while sobbing in his sleep for Nero.

There was at least one occasion where Genesis questioned why he had been awakened for this. Why had the goddess directed him to this boy? Had he rejected his original plea for help only to become his mother? He questioned whether anything that he was doing would make a difference, but then the day had come when the shivering stopped and Weiss sat up in bed to remove the two shirts that Genesis had put on him. The boy smiled and said, “Thank you for staying with me, brother.”

He wasn’t sure if Weiss remembered how harrowing his recovery had been, but he could see that the white haired young man was clearly happy that someone had been by his side through it all. And as for Genesis, he got a taste of what it was like to be a real hero — not just the superficial image that Shinra had made for Sephiroth, but someone who lit a fire inside of a person with his words. It made him want to be better than his best, knowing that someone was watching and listening to him with wide eyes. 

Weiss was more than just an admirer. He was a warm body snuggled up to his own at night. He was a bereaved older brother who would probably cry in his sleep for his lost little brother all of his life. He was an artist who had drawn almost the exact face of the goddess who had granted Genesis this second chance. He was someone who was capable of terrible things; Genesis had learned this whenever Deepground came up. Most importantly, he was Weiss. Without realizing it, Genesis’ priorities had changed, and now he mostly wanted happiness for Weiss, his little brother. There was a hole in his life without him.

The cruelty of their separation had shaken his faith in the goddess, and he had somewhat lost sight of the vision that he had shared with his brother on a moonlit night that felt as though it was lifetimes ago. He would have stopped believing all together, but it was the memory of Weiss that kept him close to the goddess.

“I wish I could stay with you,” his beloved little brother had said to him. “But I guess I’ve played my role for now. Can I tell you something?” 

Genesis had nodded, and Weiss had smiled as though they weren’t being torn apart, “You’re my hero. All my life, I lived knowing that if I rebelled, I would die. It wasn’t until you went against Shinra to save your own life that I realized my life was not living and that I was willing to give it to be free. Even when you said you wouldn’t help me, I was inspired. You lost so much because you wanted to live. I needed to sacrifice too.”

The red brows had become heavy, but before the emotion that had weighed them down could be expressed, Weiss continued on to say, “I’m happy that I met you. To be honest, I didn’t have any goals after escaping — no thoughts of what sort of man I would become once I was a free one. Because I met you, I know what kind of man I wish I could be, and I’ll rest easy knowing that I am loved by such a man.”

That day was the first time they had verbally expressed their love for each other. Before their time together, Genesis had believed that the only people he would ever love were gone — Angeal and Sephiroth. Yet, as he watched the pure white lashes slip down to cover Weiss’ beautiful eyes, he realized he was saying goodbye to someone who had found a large place of their own in his heart. 

In the present, he thought of these things as he pulled a pair of leather gloves over his swordplay toughened hands while walking towards the gates of town. As expected, Shinra’s hounds were just outside of them. They really should have learned to stop using those loud helicopters, but this was none of his business. For him, there was only one goal, and that was to avoid losing yet another little brother that he had come to love.  
———

The Genesis Rhapsodos that met them outside of town looked more like a model for a men’s fashion website than he did a hardened former member of SOLDIER. His face had not changed a bit, but as Elena had mentioned, the signature red colored hair had gotten a bit longer than was shown in the pictures they had on file. The soft sweater and jeans would not betray the strength that lay underneath, just as that pretty face never had. In Reno’s opinion, the entire trio was pretty, but Angeal’s facial features were harder while Sephiroth had such cold, evil looking eyes. By appearance alone, Genesis was the most approachable, but this is saying nothing of his temper.

On his best day, even a seasoned Turk was no match for a first class Soldier. Due to the nature of their jobs, Shinra needed their Turks to be hard but not impossible to kill, unlike Soldiers who were privy to very little, sometimes not even knowing the circumstances surrounding their own births. Slum kids like Reno made for good candidates for the Turks. Being born and raised under the rotting pizza, the exposure to residual Mako caused the kids who weren’t sickly to adapt in ways that made them stronger and more talented than kids from other parts of the world. Reno had been lucky enough to draw the talent straw, and apparently, he had also been lucky enough to have not drawn too much. As they had learned recently, when a child was too gifted, they caught the eye of Deepground -- a fate rumored to be worse than death. 

Reno had just the right amount of skills to be a perfect Turk, but that was not enough to beat Cloud in a fair fight. He was sure that Genesis was not as strong as Cloud. Rhapsodos was definitely not a physical match for Angeal or even Zack Fair among the top Soldiers. Additionally while his swordplay was something to be remarked on, it paled in comparison to Sephiroth’s. But where Genesis stood out amongst the SOLDIER Top 5 was his attunement to magic. The average materia user would be magically inclined enough to perform the 1-3 basic spells that were based on what piece they have, but Genesis Rhapsodos could draw out spells from seemingly ordinary materia that others could not even begin to imagine. What’s more, his magic was even more potent than even that of the naturally all around gifted Sephiroth, especially when it came to fire. This made the red haired mage a tricky foe, as he was skilled enough with swordplay and hand to hand combat to be a close range threat, but he was also deadly at long range. 

Reno’s hand tensed on his electro-mag rod as he watched Tseng and Genesis approach each other. This was to be handled delicately, with their boss doing most of the talking, but the group had come prepared anyway. Twelve armed men fanned out to form a semi circle around the Turkss and the ex SOLDIER, allowing Genesis room to retreat and hopefully lead them back to Yazoo, but no room to go forward. 

The swordsman’s smile felt out of place with the tension in the air being so thick. “Tseng,” he nodded towards the Turk boss.

“Genesis,” Tseng returned the greeting. “It has been a while. Where did you disappear to?”

“That’s for me to know and you to wonder, apparently,” Genesis shrugged. “Though I’m a little surprised at the question. You usually know everything.”

Tseng put his chin on his fist as he studied the other, “I have only a few details. You were with Deepground for some time, but by the time we learned of that, you were long gone.”

“I was never WITH them,” the ex soldier corrected with a sigh. “They took me into custody, but I was never like what you’re implying. Regardless of that, I’m here now, so shall we get on with it?”

“Actually, I’ve been asked to give you this,” Tseng reached into his inner breast pocket and produced a white envelope with a blood red seal, which he passed on to the mouthy swordsman. A well manicured brow rose as Genesis used his finger to break the seal and open the envelope. Tseng gave him time to read the contents and then explained to the surprised looking ex SOLDIER, “Things have changed with Shinra. President Rufus’ main goal is for the company to atone for the damage we have done to the planet. You may have noticed that Mako energy is no longer in use.”

“And Rufus is President now. Things have changed,” Genesis agreed. “And so I am pardoned for my so called crimes against the Shinra. I do hope that wanting to live has been decriminalized for everyone.”

Reno couldn’t help but cringe at this. The people of Nibelheim had wanted to live just as much as anyone else, but they had died horrible deaths at the hands of this man’s best friend. Sephiroth had lived his whole life without knowing the horrible truth of his birth. The Turk couldn’t say that he knew the right way that the departed general should have found out, but he was certain that Genesis’ way wasn’t it.

“Well if this is all, I’ll be on my way then,” the dramatic ex SOLDIER spoke with a hand wave. “It’s about time for dinner and one of my favorite movies will be on…”

“Actually, there is one more thing,” Tseng interrupted. Reno was sure that Genesis knew this was coming, but the swordsman put both hands to his face all the same.

“I’m pretending to be surprised,” Genesis replied in a dry tone. “What do you think? I’m told I should become an actor, but I don’t know. Did I sell this one?”

“Is Yazoo at the inn?” The Turks boss asked, getting to the point. 

“You should have brought more men with you,” Genesis’ expression iced over as he finally acknowledged the other Turks and the grunts who had come along as back up. “I think you know well what Sephiroth was to me. Nothing has changed at all. Shinra is my enemy now and forever more!”

The three Turks prepared for the attack and the grunts tightened their formation while keeping their guns trained on the former SOLDIER. Tseng was the only person who appeared relaxed here, and he spoke to Genesis in a calm tone. “We want to help him.”

“You want to study him! Imprison him!” Genesis barked back. “I knew it was him you were coming for. This is as close to him as you’ll get!”

The small hairs on the back of Reno’s neck always stood on end when an attack was coming. He prepared to defend, but was stopped in his tracks as a wall of fire roared to life and effectively cut off Tseng from the rest of the Turks and their armed escort.

“Boss!” Reno shouted as he backed away from the searing heat. It was a large wall, but not one that he could not go over. Unfortunately, Genesis was waiting for him on the other side. The fireball that struck him in the chest burned so badly that it took his breath away. He landed on the ground next to Tseng and gasped for air as he watched his boss stumbling to his feet. Elena and Rude were coming at the redhead from both sides, but Genesis skillfully used the momentum of Elena’s punch to swing her into Rude, who was also attempting to punch. Reno felt her cry of pain in his soul. Finding his strength, he cursed, “Damn you!” and charged at Genesis again, swinging the now crackling electro-mag rod at him. But the ex SOLDIER was quick to draw his sword and parry the smaller weapon away. Tseng drew his gun and aimed, but Reno was seized in a headlock and held in front of the assailant’s body.

“Genesis, please listen,” Tseng tried to reason. “Yazoo is a remnant of Sephiroth, tasked with resurrecting him. If he does, then the planet…”

“You neither know nor care anything for the planet,” Genesis shouted as he tightened his chokehold on Reno. 

It was hard to breathe, but Reno could still get just enough air to struggle. He tried thrusting his elbow into his attacker’s body, but fell short. He was thrown face forward into the dirt and a foot was planted into his back. Above him, he could hear Genesis fending off Rude. Then he saw his partner falling to the ground. Gunshots rang out, and the weight on his back was lifted. Rolling, Reno retrieved his electromagnetic rod and got to his feet in time to see some of the armed guards meeting their end. Tseng fired and one of the boys in blue was put right in the path of the bullet and then tossed away like he was nothing. In the distance, a motor could be heard, but over it, Genesis spoke as he used a flame burning on his hand to activate the runes on his sword. 

“You will not get near him…”

But he was wrong. Reno felt his body suddenly and violently being lifted from the ground. Looking around, he saw that the same had happened to the others. Genesis, on the other hand appeared to have fallen backwards because now he was being supported under his arms by Yazoo. 

It was like looking at the ghost of Sephiroth past, seeing the lengthy strands of silver floating in the wind that rolled through. The Shinra employees were all being held at least four feet from the ground by an unseen force that slightly burned. In the meantime, Genesis managed to gain his footing. 

“Yazoo! Just go! Run!”

Instead of running, Yazoo used whatever this power of his was to lift the arriving Cloud Strife from his bike, causing the vehicle to keep rolling forward before falling over unceremoniously and continuing to chug on the ground. 

“Hey, Cloud! Crazy seeing you here,” Reno called cheerfully to the blonde. 

Ignoring him, the spike haired hero called out, “Yazoo, everything is going to be okay. I’m here to help. I just want to help.”

The wind had subsided leaving Yazoo’s hair to fall back into place. What probably used to be bangs had grown almost to his chest and mostly obscured his face, but Reno could feel the distrust in his gaze. 

“Yazoo, I know you’re scared and confused and you’re not feeling well,” Cloud pleaded. “I’ve been through this too, and that’s why I want to help you. I won’t let Shinra take you. Let everyone down, ok? I promise it’s going to be alright.”

Yazoo only let Cloud down. Predictable. The blonde approached with both hands held out, stopping within arms length. “It’s ok, Yazoo. I won’t let them hurt you or take Genesis away from you. Let them down. I can’t help you if you hurt them.”

They fell to the ground with a loud thud just as Tseng’s phone began to ring. Their boss walked away to answer, leaving his subordinates a bit confused about what to do next. They all knew better than to contradict Cloud, and so it was silently agreed that they would just watch him work. 

“Yazoo, it’s going to be o-“ he started again, but then Yazoo fell forward into Genesis’ arms. 

“He fainted again,” Genesis spoke with alarm. “I had a feeling he would. My goddess, he’s burning up!”

“Hold on,” Cloud spoke before running off to his bike. He shut the thing off and stood it up. Then he returned with a bottle of water. Kneeling, he popped the cap and began to pour it over Yazoos head. This caused the silver haired young man to stir. 

“Cloud,” Yazoo spoke softly.

“Are you alright?” The blonde asked as he took the others hand. 

“No,” Yazoo shook his head and then buried his face against Genesis. “Head...hurts.”

“I’ll take you back to the inn,” Genesis said as he stood with the boy in his arms. 

“No!” Yazoo quickly objected. “I want to go home...please...”

Hearing this, Reno’s brow furrowed and he felt the will to fight go right out of him. This was not right. The Yazoo that had tormented him hadn’t sounded like this. There was sincerity and obvious pain in his voice as he pleaded to go home. The Turk was not sure of how he was supposed to feel.

“At least let me take you back so that you can rest while I get ahold of the pilot that brought us here, my little brother,” Genesis spoke gently to him. “You’re not doing well at all. I need to at least try to feed you as well. How could you strain yourself like that when all you’ve eaten today is two crackers and a fry?”

“They have a helicopter,” Cloud spoke as he turned to look at the Turks. “And I’ll come along to make sure you’re safe and to hear their explanation.”

Tseng was returning now, and he spoke with perfect timing, “We’ve been ordered to stand down and to share our information with Cloud. Seeing them home would be a good opportunity to do this. Reno, are you fit to fly?”

“Uh, yeah.” A still stunned Reno replied. “Yeah I can get us there.”

“Elena, you go with them,” Tseng ordered. “Rude and I will stay behind and send for the medics.”

“I’ll come back and get your things from the inn, if you’d like,” Cloud offered as those who were flying out began to head towards one of the waiting helicopters.

“Thank you, Cloud,” Genesis spoke with obvious sincerity. “Thank you for helping. I don’t know anything about what they’re claiming Yazoo will do. I don’t think he does either.”

“He has symptoms of Mako poisoning,” the blonde explained. “It does cause memory loss.”

Aboard the helicopter, Genesis sat down and laid Yazoo’s head on his lap. While Reno prepared for take off, Elena scrambled around and then came back with the first aid kit and a bottle of water. 

“Here,” she said, offering a small, sealed white packet from the kit to Genesis. “Maybe that will help his pain, and here is some water.”

“Here, Yazoo,” Genesis spoke softly. “Let’s try to take this medicine.”

Genesis used his arm to support Yazoo into a somewhat sitting position so that the silver haired young man could swallow the pills and drink the water. When he was done, he looked to Elena and gave her a weak thanks before lying down again and tucking his face into Genesis’ body with his eyes closed.

“What did you all do to him?” Cloud’s voice held a hint of accusation, but he mostly seemed awed and confused. Reno wanted to chime in that they were honestly just as baffled, but he left it to Elena.

“Actually, it wasn’t us,” she began. “Or at least not the us you’re thinking of. I should start at the beginning.”

“Yeah, that would help,” Cloud agreed.

“Prepare for take off while you do that,” Reno called and then lifted the bird into the air once everyone was seated.

Once they were in the air, Elena continued, “Deepground was a PR nightmare for us, especially because we didn’t know anything. The old president died so suddenly, and Hojo, as you might know, was very prone to keeping things to himself. We investigated as much as we could, but there wasn’t much left to go on. Then we got a distress signal from a lab on an island in the same chain as New Mideel.”

“But by the time we got there, Yazoo had gotten out already,” Reno chimed in. “And everything there was pretty destroyed.”

“Right,” Elena agreed. “From what we can tell, this was a secret lab that Hojo had. Maybe one of many. He was given that amount of leeway after his success with Sephiroth.”

“So how did Yazoo end up there?” Cloud questioned. 

“So that’s the thing. Much of the data we recovered from that lab is corrupted, so we thought the dates or something had to be wrong. The thing is, if they’re right, Yazoo was moved to that lab after the Nibelheim incident.”

This was Reno’s first time hearing this, and he had all sorts of questions, including the question of why he was out of the loop on this bit. He would complain to Tseng later. For now, Cloud asked the next thing he wanted to know. 

“How is that even possible? Yazoo was there three years ago. I mean, he was out. I fought him.”

“That’s why we thought the dates had to be wrong,” Elena replied. “Because if the reports are accurate, Yazoo has been suspended in a solution of Mako and sedatives for the past 9 years…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... it was Animal Crossing. I'll try to get back on target, I swear!


End file.
